I saw you first in my dream. I was so very young then that I believed whatever problem I had Would go away as I hit the bed. But you followed me only In my dreams and rarely too. At times I woke up; Otherwise lied With eyes brimming with tears anew. Who are you? I don't know then. Why can't I see you when awake? You took many forms; always won, Leaving me bruised. But I didn't break. My hairs turned silver; skin did shrink. Yet my golden hour didn't come. Losing dear ones did always bring That sorrow. Oh dear! I miss them! Yet my longing for you didn't Dissipate. In fact it grew strong. I sleep less now. Dreams are rare. I am still looking for you so long. One day, you may just come to me, Stretch your hand and I'll place mine. Together, yes! we'd then cease to be. Remembered? I will not complain!