In shadows deep where whispers dwell,
Jaun Elia’s voice begins to swell.
A melancholic tune he weaves,
In every line, a heart that grieves.

His words, a dance of night and day,
In silence, they find their way.
A mystic’s heart, a lover’s soul,
In every verse, a story told.

With ink of stars and dreams unspoken,
His pen, a wand, emotions awoken.
In solitude, he paints the skies,
In tears of joy and silent cries.

Jaun Elia, a name, a song,
In his realm, we all belong.
A poet’s heart, forever free,
In timeless words, his legacy.