The Path to Enlightenment (or: A Lantern Limerick)

I went outside to find something interesting to study, and after fruitless searching around Drexel's campus decided that I was going to find far more interesting subjects in the University of Pennsylvania's domain. No sooner had I stepped foot down the path then something caught my eye: a pair of old metal lanterns with mysteriously opaque glass. I studied the lantern on the left for a good few minutes, and came up with the following twenty observations, which I present to you in no particular order of importance:

1. Black and white
2. Metal
3. Matte
3. Frosted glass
4. Pointed top
5. Ornate
6. One of a pair
7. Bolted to a brick building
8. Dark and inert
9. Resembles a knight's shield
10. Squared-off, not rounded
11. Covered in condensation
12. No bulb inside of it
13. Electrically-powered
14. Flanking a doorway
15. Hung at head height
16. Weathered-looking
17. Bolts are rusted
18. Hatch on the bottom
19. Home to a caterpillar
20. Grass caught in the hinge

From these observations, I have composed a poem involving the dark lantern and its wriggling denizen, entitled:

The Caterpillar's Prison

A caterpillar went on his way

And nary a goodbye did he say

To the friends left behind

As he wriggled and climbed

Into darkness, trapped to this day

You may have noticed that the above list is suspiciously similar to one I made the other day about a hapless Drexel tree, and you would be absolutely correct. The difference between the two subjects is that I had all the time and leisure in the world to consciously select my subject this time around, whereas previously I was working under a time constraint. Given said time, I chose the lantern because I was intrigued by the dichotomy between the essential purpose of a lantern as a light-giver and the state in which I stumbled upon these dimmed devices.