Not myself, without you

Not myself, without you,
Essence of my life..
Carving your niche,
closer to my heart,
on every tick of the clock.

Never has been the grass,
adorable without the dew.
May be, the dew dries.
Or the grass dies.
But they together,
is Mother Nature's wonder.

Has the grass ever said no to the dew?
Even when it knows, its death is due?
Has the dew ever stopped appearing?
Even when it knows, the grass will dry out soon?

The intense scorching heat of Sun,
killing the innocent blade of grass.
And drying the dew drop, dead with deft.

The niche you carved, my dew,
is vaccant and waiting to be filled.
The grass will die out soon.
Be sure to say hi before noon..
Yeah, be sure to say,
A hi before noon..

[Incidently, the sequel to this, came before it. I had put in the sequel before the poem itself.]