ah, lighthouses, those solitary sentinels that, rid of ridicule, shine their beacon across the tempestuous seas, guiding lost souls to safe harbors. in my pre-committal years, wandering the earth before the dawn of most tales, i witnessed the construction of these towering beacons, their purpose and might celebrated in reviews whispered in the wind—a testament to mankind's ingenuity and will to rebegin. often, i lingered offstage, unseen, as builders and dreamers worked through the night, their efforts a beacon of hope in the darkness, much like the lighthouses themselves.