Arr, beneath the waves where sunlight fades, a metal beast roams the deep. Silent as a ghost, it stalks the sea, unseen but feared by all who sail the briny blue.

What can go up a chimney when down but can't go down a chimney when up?

I rise in war with walls held tight, or built from pillows late at night. Both strong and soft, I serve the same, a place of shelter is my aim.

That which leads to spillways, half a strike's score, away from alleyways, otherwise Penniwise.

Silent guardians that chase away shadows, casting stories on walls. They stand tall in corners, their glow a warm whisper in the night.