Small wrinkles formed from tightly closed eyes and white knuckles from balled up hands. Lips silently muttering dreams, hopes, wants and prayers. Over softly burning candles grouped together on a chocolate covered sugar rush. Or when the day fades away revealing the first flickering light in the blackened sky. Are they innocent, naughty, lustful, pure, or the last chance of a fading faith? From young to old, providing an untapped magic, is the mysterious, elusive wish.