POEM - The Unrepentant

I. The Stone Heart

He walks where shadows coil like serpents, thick,

Through streets that whisper warnings, slick with rain.

The world has tried to break him, stone by stone,

Yet stands he, rigid, carved of colder rock.

No plea has bent his knee, no grief his spine—

No mercy in his eyes, no ghost of shame.

The past may rattle chains, may howl his name,

But he has barred the door and drowned the key.

What god could claim a soul that will not kneel?

What law could bind a will that will not yield?

II. The Echo of the Fallen

They come to him at night—the ones he wronged—

Not wraiths of flesh, but voices, sharp as glass.

A mother’s weeping, tangled in the wind,

A brother’s curse, half-muffled by the dark.

"Do you remember?" murmurs through the walls.

"Do you feel nothing?" seeps into his breath.

Yet when the dawn comes peeling back the sky,

He meets the sun with neither blush nor sigh.

The dead may beg for justice, raw and wild—

He grinds their bones to dust and walks on, smiling.

III. The Crow’s Feast

Oh, let the crows assemble, black and loud,

Their beaks like daggers, waiting for his fall.

They know the stench of rot before it comes,

They sense the crumbling edge beneath his feet.

But he has fed them well on spite and scorn,

And laughs to see them circle, lean and keen.

"You’ll have no feast from me," he tells the sky,

"I’ll burn before I let you pick me clean."

So let the storm clouds gather, thick with doom—

He’ll stand unmoved, unbroken, in the gloom.

IV. The Last Defiance

And when at last the reaper grips his sleeve,

When time has gnawed his name down to the bone,

He’ll grin into the hollow face of death

And spit into the void that swallows men.

No final plea, no trembling, no regret—

Just teeth still bared, still hungry for the fight.

The earth may claim his flesh, the worms their due,

But hell itself will find him unconquered too.

For even gods grow weary of a will

That burns too fierce for heaven—or to kill.

V. The Unmarked Grave

They’ll bury him where no flowers dare to grow,

Where thorns embrace the silence like old friends.

No stone will bear his name, no dirge be sung,

Just wind that howls the anthem of the lost.

And if some fool should pause to ask, "Who slept

Beneath this bitter earth, so grim, so cold?"

The night will answer with a hollow laugh—

"A man who owed the world nothing, and paid in full."

Short Summary :

"The Unrepentant" is a stark, unflinching portrait of defiance—a figure who refuses remorse, even as the world demands it. Through vivid imagery of stone, crows, and echoing ghosts, the poem explores the cost of unyielding pride. The protagonist stands firm against guilt, judgment, and even death itself, leaving behind only an unmarked grave as a testament to his unbending will. The work challenges the reader to consider the limits of resilience and the price of absolute refusal to repent.