The first experience of writing

In fact, I used to write numbers of poems, but no verses in English. I also tried to translate some of those poems, but failed almost immediately with the problem of rhymes. If there are rhymes in the original poem, the translated one must have them, too, right? So this text isn't a translation. It contains a kind of gothic, dark mood of apocalypse or things like that, but in fact these lines just echo my thoughts of the past. Could anyone of the Engish speakers check it for the mistakes, please? I'm quite sure there's a hundred of mistakes

There's no need for fire to survive.

There's no need for anything to grow.

There's no need... just tell me, if you know,

Why should I keep my mind-to-soul strife?

The world seems weird, existing still,

An' on the clock the arrow's touchin' 'zero',

The prayer's asking heavens for the hero

To stop the end and follow devil's will.

When you have nothin' to take care of,

That's easy to pretend to be a hero.

Tho' there's just a boy behind the mirror,

His heart is young, still hopeful an' soft.

There's no need to make my words exact,

There's no need to look at watch for 'zeroes'.

A breath's like wave, the lives'd be the rivers,

An' all of us will no more be wreck'd.

Thanks!