I stood before radar, before radio's call, a guardian through tempest and squall. By flame, by lens, by electric might, I pierced the dark with guiding light. Who am I, watching each night?

A man's soul bound below to hell Two minutes breathed his final spell All cameras died around his cell Did this financier kill himself?

I resemble a sculpcha, tomb, or statue; of wood, stone or steel, but I do not guarantee those who come will remember, or feel... You can mourn, celebrate, or commemorate with me.

I am wasted by the young, and cherished by the old, Ever present, all powerful, yet always slipping away, I destroy all things, but those that can stand my test will live on forever.

Where the ivy climbs and the falcon flies, stands a stone giant with a crown of towers, watching over the fields below.