This is one of those odd nights, or perhaps they are the only ones that are not odd. Certainly sometimes they seem to be the only ones that fit. In darkness, with candles that have a switch, not a flame. They flicker, though. That’s what matters. They flicker, though they are false candles, and I sing, though I am a false worshiper. I sing to a god I do not believe in. Is this odd? Sometimes it seems like this is the best kind of god to sing to. Certainly it is a strange sort of comfort. I think I could have believed. I think I have that soul. I wish I had believed. But this is enough for the wanderer, for the dreamer. Lights that flicker like candles, a voice that sounds like belief. It’s enough, I think.