With God’s eyes upon its simple exterior, the residence, its owner out to plumb the depths of distant seas, stood in quiet contempt. The winds- they battered the solemn figure and whipped about the proudly extending phallus, shrieking their wishes in harsh tones- unbefitting the contrasting will of an overarching natural mother. Shadows of low-hanging clouds lingered nearby the somber lighthouse. The structure wondered why these airborne spirits chose to spend their afternoon masking the tears of earthbound entities. In its shaded state, the lighthouse began to dread the wispy devils’ sympathies and adjusted its sorry countenance. With dawn, the clouds faded and only the sea remained- lapping at the rocky shore, ignorant of the structure’s woes. The lighthouse shouted its hatred to the waters- transmitting its rage unto yonder waves. Hearing, but not responding, the sea continued to ebb and flow- repeating its rhythmic cycle. Soon, the lighthouse gave up its call and accepted its lonely existence. The owner would not return- nor would any other man restore the lighthouse to its former joy. The sun had slipped beneath the waves- as did the luckless sailor- leaving the lighthouse behind: a temple of forgotten desires, a monument to irreconcilable sorrow, an obelisk, set in stone, only to decay in the wake of lost love.