Shreder
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So as I was saying, I just have a handful of smallish suggestion that you can take or leave at your leisure.
quote:
You know that feeling when all hope is lost? When your will to live is gone?
I have it.
My sister in all but blood, my only love, was murdered by the ones I once fought beside. With her, they murdered my joy. My hope. My life.
I never learned why that war began; I only knew it was wrong.
I stopped fighting; I refused to be a part of the death.
So death found her.
I am alone now.
So alone.
I wish death would come for me; I don’t want to live without her.
It comes…
It comes…
It comes…
No…it does not.
This is not death, this is more agony!
It is so brutal, so painful. I want it to end! Why did this war begin? What started it, could it have been prevented?
I will never know.
It left me here. To suffer alone.
I wish I had not been born, then she would have never met me.
I would have never felt this agony.
The hate directed me is so strong, I fear it.
My bond sister would have never taken part in the war; they would have never killed her.
A kind soul looks at me with pity; he knows I cannot be saved.
He raises his blade and whispers “I’m sorry.”
No, do not be sorry. The end is near. Thank you kind sir, I could never thank you enough.
The end comes…
It comes…
It comes…
Thank God…
It came.
Firstly, I personally feel that if you want this to be more like standard poetry (not that it has to be, mind you) you could break some of those longer lines into multiple shorter lines. Maybe something like this:
quote:
You know that feeling when all hope is lost?
When your will to live is gone?
I have it.
My sister in all but blood, my only love, was murdered by the ones I once fought beside.
With her, they murdered my joy.
My hope.
My life.
I never learned why that war began; I only knew it was wrong.
I stopped fighting; I refused to be a part of the death.
So death found her.
I am alone now.
So alone.
I wish death would come for me;
I don’t want to live without her.
It comes…
It comes…
It comes…
No…it does not.
This is not death, this is more agony!
It is so brutal, so painful.
I want it to end!
Why did this war begin?
What started it; could it have been prevented?
I will never know.
It left me here--
To suffer alone.
I wish I had not been born, then she would have never met me.
I would have never felt this agony.
The hate directed at me is so strong; I fear it.
My bond sister would have never taken part in the war--
They would have never killed her.
A kind soul looks at me with pity; he knows I cannot be saved.
He raises his blade and whispers, “I’m sorry.”
No, do not be sorry; the end is near.
Thank you, kind sir, I could never thank you enough.
The end comes…
It comes…
It comes…
Thank God…
It came.
You'll notice I also broke it into shorter sections (Which in poetry are called stanzas) and changed the punctuation a little in some places. (Adding commas, changing commas to semicolons, changing periods to dashes, etc.) These are more in the way of stylistic changes than true grammatical corrections (Because keep in mind, in poetry you have a lot of freedom to bend the rules of grammar and punctuation to your own tastes...), so make of them what you will. Additionally, I stuck an "at" between "directed" and "me" in that one line.
I would love it if you considered writing more poetry. 
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