I am cold as the grave, As feared as the plague, I reap the dreams of soldiers, and am the bane of all men.
Who am I?
Well it's not death, because it's neither the bane of all men nor reaps the dreams of soldiers. So "cruelty"?
I take the past, you always remember me, you cannot stop me, for I exist not, the more you age the more I grow, yet you always remember who I am.
What am I?
Regret or Forgetfulness.