I'm a dry expanse, a barren plight, Sounding like what you might forfeit outright. What am I?

Wild West winds whisked my name to fame; barkeep and miner, gambler and sheriff all the same. I chased the buffalo and panned for gold, yet a row at the O K Corral is the tale most told.

A place for damsels held. Steel and iron, stack and weld. Broadcasting voices from its peak: its beacon’s silent yell. Tolkien’s two: an easy tell. Rapunzel used to dwell. It’s silhouette on a stormy night, top stories: fright it sells.

I'm a tower of hope, in a stormy sea, A warning or guide, for you and me, My light revolves, a steady friend, Illuminating the path, to journey's end.

I look like a triangle But, I have four corners. What could I be?