When the dreamer dies, what happens to the dream?

Isn't it a peculiar and abstract thought... what truly becomes of a dream when its dreamer is gone? Perhaps it decays away too, after all, a dream is nothing but a fragile hope, and what is hope to someone who has already vanished?

I wonder if all the dreams we abandoned, the ones we never dared to chase, rise up to the sky, drifting toward the setting sun, and gathering together in a lost land just beyond our reach. I think if I sail my moonshine boat right across the sunset, I’ll find them there, my yesterdays and all my old springs and forgotten dreams