Answer:
Everyone asks for me but yet everyone hates to face me. For someone I am agony for others I am relief. Who am I?
Tear me off and scratch my head what once red is now black.
Though desert men once called me God today men call me mad. For I wag my tail when I am angry. And growl when I am glad.
I am drawn by everyone without pen or pencil
I am always coming but I never arrive. What am I?
What never gets any wetter no matter how hard it rains?