Electric Dreams

To Spin A Twisted Tale

Tony Elliott


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Elliott, Tony (2002 November). To Spin A Twisted Tale. Electric Dreams 9(11). 

I have been plagued by many nightmares over the last few years and turned the experience into a story of which this poem is a part.


Written words are powerful in their unique ability to portray an image personal to the individual who allows himself to become a canvas on which the author loosely paints, surpassing all other forms of media in which one is presented with external stimulation.

When the sights and sounds of a story are created within the readerís mind, the result is something that can never be duplicated over speaker or screen. As each individual will perceive the story in a slightly different fashion, the images are as varied as there are people.


In the beginning his life was normal

Like any other small boy

He ran and jumped and had some fun

Not knowing they watched him with evil joy

From his youth he thought he was in control

Things came so easy and fast

Soon he moved beyond friend and peer

Emotions and thoughts kept under tight grasp

As he grew into a man it seemed

He had it pretty good

Health and love, a nice family

Things turned out just as he knew they would

Thatís when they started to sneak into his thoughts

Taking note of his torment and fears

Knowing the dreams and desires inside

They lay in wait, in dark shadows they hide

From those shadows they reached out and touched him

Slowly draining his soul and strength

Unnoticed by his conscious mind

They did not worry to take their time

Sometimes they would breach through the wall

Causing his eyes to see

The consequence of the battle inside

Into the physical realm did they slide

The things that happened would cause him

To tighten the grip on his soul

Run, run, as fast as you can

But the battle was still too close

As he filled in with shadows and darkness

The sludge filling in every space

Years passed by as he went beyond sighs

ĎTill he remembered not the way it had been

They carefully planned and waited

The attacks subtle and right on the mark

They wanted to take control of his life

By filling him up with inner strife

He found himself locked in a corner

Bound by deceit and lies from them

Filled with sadness, loneliness and dark melodies

That no one else can see

Weary he rests while the war rages on

Hiding from enemy's shots

In a foxhole he camped while they searched him out

He watched them laugh as they cast his lot

Decades passed as they lay in wait

Locked away from his open view

Emotions and feelings in a stranglehold trapped

Seething inside with them like boiling wax

The sludge bubbled and popped, spewing despair

The waves hit with relentless force

Confusion ran deep as he fought for a glimpse

Of truth and reality

Over the years, fed by their lies, incredible sadness advanced

Diligently stealing his hope and his joy

Replaced with solemn misery

Finding out they had stolen his years

At last, no more did he have any tears

© 2000 Tony Elliott

If you are interested in the full book, please contact me at johomato@yahoo.com