In the silence of the night, his words did flow,
A poet’s heart, with tales of woe.
Embracing sorrow, as the moonlight glowed,
John Elia’s life, an enigmatic show.

With every verse, he painted his pain,
Love unfulfilled, a ceaseless rain.
The echoes of his past, a haunting refrain,
In his poetry, he found his domain.

A soul tormented, seeking solace in rhyme,
His thoughts, a labyrinth of time.
Shadows of despair, a mountain to climb,
Yet, in his grief, there was a sublime.

The world, a canvas for his melancholic art,
His legacy, a testament to a broken heart.
Through the darkness, he played his part,
John Elia, a true poetic counterpart.