Wall, you with your grayness, the dirty stains of age are to make you seem old of a 1000 years. Yes, like a tower, built by craftsmen of proporious minds. But no, you are not. You are only some 50 years old, you’re looks lie and thats makes mad, sad, and have a little feeling of disappointment. 

I know others will come here thinking when they first see you: Wow, wow, what a stupendous old thing, must have seen some rough times over the last, say, ~700 years since its standing” and such similar sayings.

Wall, you must be punished severely for this. Merely your standing here will cause thousands in the future to falsely assert you to a kind of ancient god, like Zeus or Bastet. You want that feverious attention, wall, I know you do. I alone won’t allow it at all. So go wall go. Get yourself up from out of the ground and go where all the goldfinches live, in the heaven of nonexistence. I make no sense to anger you, wall. I know, Wall, that you hate fantastical scenarios such as that, but you must know… I hate you. Oh hear that over there… my mother is calling… needs help to open the frying door to the treats. Best I go now then later, good bye.