Hollowed edge.

There's a hollowed edge un neat enough to cut me from foot and place, this race is rough and time has come to challenge it's foe, with things unsaid,  uncertain,  for I already know that love and life pertained something greater than a single wish I had made for good, even though I reach for wood,  to uncut the boundaries I had placed when you were young,  in some unfamiliar web that's spun, by the creation of a life without the chance,  but loved as more and loved there twice, for my hand cannot roll the dice, not this hand, and not this game, forevermore missed,  remembered always shall be my aim.