In the shadows of twilight, his words took flight,
A tapestry of sorrow, of longing, and of night.
With inked agony, his heart he did bare,
A soul unchained, lost in poetic despair.

Through the corridors of time, his voice does linger,
A melody of pain, echoed by the singer.
Each verse a whisper, a fragment of his soul,
John Elia’s life, in poetry, unfolds.

Beneath the moon’s soft, melancholic glow,
His thoughts meandered, through highs and lows.
A wanderer of words, a seeker of truth,
In the labyrinth of life, he found his youth.

Yet, as the dawn breaks, his legacy remains,
Etched in the hearts, through joy and pain.
The enigmatic poet, with words so profound,
In the silence of night, his spirit is found.