In the shadows of his silent screams,
John Elia wandered, lost in dreams.
A soul adrift in endless night,
Seeking solace, chasing light.
His words, a mirror to his pain,
Reflections of a heart once slain.
Through verses deep, raw anguish poured,
A poetâs torment, unadored.
Solitude his constant friend,
In empty rooms, his thoughts would wend.
A life of questions, never clear,
Whispering secrets, only he could hear.
Yet in his sorrow, beauty bloomed,
A testament to lifeâs cruel loom.
For in the darkness, stars ignite,
And John Eliaâs words took flight.