No song unsung, No wine untasted

He stayed up. And he dreamt. Of all the things he wanted from life, of all the pleasures he wanted to immerse himself in. He dreamt of how the Lady luck would arrive in all her glory and kiss him soft on his very lips, when the zenith would carpet under his steps as he would stride towards his destiny. And how that blazing sun,that some said centered their Solar system, would turn dusky when sought by his sparkling eyes. He slept naught, and he dreamt long.
He dreamt of her caressing touch, of some melodious, whispering sound of sweet nothings. He dreamt of breathing through that scented cascade of flowing tresses, and of that sheer pleasure that made his heart beat in his chest.
With eyes open, his mind wandered into some unsung dimension of time, where his steps traced the route. So he traveled short, and stopped at where he pleased. For it was he who was the Architect, the Guide, as well as the Explorer. Now, what only mattered was what he pleased, so he chose a line beyond the horizon to be his post. And he smiled at his triumph. A triumph that had so by now stopped even amusing him anymore. Victory had become a synonym of being alive. Alive, like he was!

Alive!

Alive?

His dream suddenly came to an abrupt end. Alive like he was did not permit any dreams. His eyes welled up and his heart suddenly filled with gratitude. He had lived his Life in those few moments of a sleepless dream!