Night; such beauty, so serene, and a bringer of slumber to some, whilst to others; awakening. Her endless sky, stretched out across the vastness above, filled with twinkling starlight in the void that is the darkness. Unto the ground below, casting such wondrous light; her wondrous light. When night finally does fall, I am awakened; never to give in to rest, running wild and free as a great beast, where none shall pay me any mind, nor shall they care what I do or say; a time all to myself, alongside those I chose to share it with, though in most; I am alone. Around me, they slumber; but not I, for I cannot; far too awake, far too alive for sleep, therefore I must not give in, not until I can carry on no longer, having reached my limit; collapsing at last to be encompassed by the land of dreams.

Grassy fields lay before my eager feet; their softest grasses swaying ever so gently, whilst the night inches on, owls hooting overhead, the scents of grass, earth, and feathers filling the air; freedom, indeed this truly is. A night to last for all of eternity, alas all within the span of a few hours, until the next dawn emerges, all to disappear, fading into the next day, surely to bring about new opportunities for all to enjoy; just as the night once had, just for me.

Once more, the night falls; I stand at the waters’ edge, in a long dress of deepest blue flowing gently in the breeze, my puffy brown hair (which resembles a lions mane) somehow tamed, and my eyes turned to the stars above me. Filling my eyes are the shimmering lights of a thousand stars, and filling my mind are a thousand dreams, hope being cast up to each little light, yearning for each little dream to come to pass. A name is called in the wind; I turn away from my dreams and the stars to face yet another dream; a handsome fellow around my height, in a suit of smooth black and white fabric, his chocolate brown hair slightly swept to the side, and his eyes set on me in a dreamy sort of way.

Taking his familiar hand, beneath the light of the pale moon, we take to a gazebo; its wood painted white, slightly chipping away in places, and we dance; not a dance capable of being placed in words aside from these few; spinning me in my dress of blue, making the stars look like little comets spinning about me, then taking me back and dipping me, my hair just barely brushing the wooden platform below my feet. Gazing to the side, there is the water, reflecting those dreamy stars and the vastness of the galaxies above. From one dream to another; looking into different galaxies, seeing into dreams so familiar and wonderful, entranced by the very moment.