I love lighthouses; Lonely, desolate, cold Grown out of rocky outcrops Designed by monolithic architects, Where only ascetic souls can call home Their light, a beacon in the darkness To protect sailors from the smouldering sea, And all her whiles and trickery One lonely light, that shines out Like faith, like hope, like love So mariners will not plot a course Into the shallow depths of death, Book a room in Davy Jonesβ Locker.