In the shadowed corners of a restless mind,
Jaun Elia’s whispers softly intertwine.
A seeker of truths, cloaked in despair,
His verses dance in the midnight air.

With ink of sorrow, he paints the night,
Unraveling dreams in the fading light.
His heart, a tempest of unspoken fears,
Wanders through time, shedding silent tears.

Each line a journey through realms unknown,
A tapestry woven with silken moans.
The echoes of his pain, a haunting grace,
Linger in the depths of an endless space.

Oh, Jaun Elia, bard of the lost and lone,
Your words remain, a melancholic throne.
In the silence, your spirit brightly gleams,
A lighthouse guiding through life’s turbulent streams.