A strong guess

Losing purpose, or maybe it feels more like sanity clinging as close to the edge as it can without losing itself. While Outward signs of resilience permeate the shallow surface, bouts of uncertainty are kept at bay. From a distance onlookers can view the lighthouse, giving the false sense of safety and calm. Dark waters waiver as they wave silently, slicing through thoughtless deeds. The routine seems like a safe route so it's driven to insanity. Where has it gone, for how long, and how far, how deep is the gap between what was lost and any new found hope? Guesses galore, if not today then tomorrow, or even at the tip of a hat, a turning of a corner behind invisible walls built with invisible hands.