Just a matter of time before the line that separates the love and rage divides

Heartbroken
Giving and then some
I've suffered
You've given none
My fingers
My calloused hands
I've suffered
I've given and then some
Still I miss you when you're gone

It's a cold, black, stolen world
My curtains drawn and then tied
So gifted
Falling behind
How can they justify the confliction?
My fist is curled and tight

World of subpar
Stolen world of knaves

Please help before the line divides