Poets logo

60 Minute Saga #1 (Final Draft)

by Z-Man about a year ago in performance poetry
Report Story

I'll Revisit + Refine It When Inspiration Strikes

The following tale was comprised of four parts. Each had been written over the span of as close to 15 minutes as possible, the first three totally independent of one another.

The fourth, as you may have seen, took a different approach.

I have tied each aspect together into one fluid story.

I hope you enjoy it.


"Steal away into the night,

Through darkened forest you take flight,

Seeking answers to your plight,

A quest the Moon can put just right."

A sound rings off in the distance as my gaze is ripped toward the night sky.

A greenish ambiance fills the air, reflecting the scene that surrounds me in the dark.

It's not often that I get to travel outside anymore. These days adventuring comes at a much higher cost than it used to be. Work, responsibilities, subconscious trials and tribulations...these tend to remain supreme and daunting in their insistency.

I breathe in the fresh air, and with it a palpable taste of long lost freedoms.

All around me is quiet. The silence is incomplete, but tranquil all the same. An occasional rustling comes to my ears, but nothing perturbing by any stretch.

After all, they are just the musings of a forest that lives as naturally as—well—nature intended it to be.

As the forest shifts around me, the stars maintain their sparkling array, winking sporadically through the canopies overhead. The moon keeps to the sidelines as the stars guide my way.

For the stars and I—at least for tonight—share the same freedoms. Perhaps our destinies have become entwined for the moment (though to say they had never been before would be unfathomable indeed).

For we have always been brothers in darkness; always painters of its empty canvas.

Destiny...is there really such a thing after all?

I suppose I'll walk around for a while and think about it.


As I come up to a clearing, the stars explode before me in all of their glory. The distant shadows that adorn the dark horizon and lands tease my mind with their sad realities and deeper mysteries.

And still, the Moon makes no appearance.

Perhaps if I walk just a bit farther, the Planets will show themselves to me.

And beyond that...

Who knows what other wonders I may find?

"Washing clean upon the shore,

Upon a land unseen before,

Beneath tall cliffs that form the core,

Of choices that you must explore."

The waves came crashing in as I came to.

I found myself lying on the shore, clothes mostly intact but left in tatters all the same.

As the moments passed, memory and recognition began to awaken as well. That is, to a certain extent.

I began to recall bits and pieces of the night before. I remembered walking blindly through the woods, the stars my only guides. I remembered breaking out into a clearing and marveling at the sight that lay before me. I remembered being hesitant to continue, but driven to all the same. I remembered making my way down the hill and reaching the foot. Then I—

But that was all I could picture clearly.

With the passing of time came a likewise widening gap; one which I couldn't seem to fill in. It felt like a bubble that was encasing something secretly inside. Whether it was for my benefit, or a device completely against me, I couldn't begin to determine.

I slowly rose to a sitting position, brushing off the sand and ocean debris that still clung to me. Looking around, I couldn't recognize where I had washed up. Whatever beach this was, it seemed to go endlessly in both directions. I turned around to find a steep wall of sand, curved at the top in stark imitation of a tsunami.

Standing up, I shook off the rest of the debris and stretched. Several muscles pulled tensely as I did so, and I had to fold myself back inwards for a few moments to let the sharp pains abate. After the discomfort had virtually passed, I slowly stretched my body out, massaging the various taut muscles until most of the tightness had smoothed out and I could begin moving comfortably.

I walked toward the wall of sand to get a closer look. I would have forgone any consideration of vertical ascension immediately had either of its horizontal brethren looked any less intimidating. After all, if a sand wall could hold such a shape perpetually, the structure as a whole must be quite compact and stable. Even defeat by its hand couldn't qualm my appreciation for its awesome integrity.

As I surveyed its verticality from the side, I found that it even angled forward a few inches at its peak; again, just like a tsunami. It was clear I would need either rock-climbing gear or a bare-bones skillset to conquer it. Both of which I had to no certain degree.

With a sigh of mixed relief and discouragement, I resolved myself to my available options: left or right.

As I gauged my chances with both, neither seemed to bring comforting resolve. Both seemed equal in their scope, as if they were exact mirror images of one another.

A moment's consideration gave me an idea that I was sure would work. I would look to the waves for direction. Not figuratively, but literally. The way I saw it, if their flow fancied one direction over the other--even to the slightest degree--that may allude to the presence of an inlet or large, internal, man-made enclosure.

As left and right had appeared as two sides of the same mirror, the waves and cliffs, too, seemed to share the same symmetry of concept.

Hell, what other option did I have?

Watching the waves closely, I soon came to the conclusion that they were heading distinctly right-ward.

So I headed right, and was well on my way.

For now

"In a void you have been bound,

To a fate of years abound,

With only clue a distinct sound,

By which you may find your ground."

Something whizzes by in front of me, as elusive as a comet that has just burnt out.

There is no sight. There is only a wave in the air; a feeling that something has come and gone in a flash.

The place where I find myself now is, for lack of a better term, haunted. I say as such because I am the first to deem it so.

For you see, there is something else I must tell you; something that shall make it all as clear as day.

To put it simply:

I am the one haunting it.


I cannot recall how I have arrived here. All I can remember is knowing somewhere inside that my destiny would not end in death.

That is, in the true death that awaits all beings that walk on this Planet and flock to its skies.

“A fate worse than death”, you may spring from your lips?

That is my life now.

It has become me, and I am thus so.

But enough of this small talk. There is much work to be done.

Much, much work.

I have not been this way for very long, and as such even I don’t know what to expect.

Do I still dream?

Do I still feed? Feed on what, I can only imagine.

Perhaps that which has flashed before me is some sort of game for which I must hunt.

Perhaps it is a spirit of light which now resides in a plane coincidingly with mine, like a two-way mirror. Except this mirror reflects only light on one side, and only darkness on the other.

I hear something now. A creak echoing in this dark void.

I remain motionless now, and listen.

And listen.

And listen. 

"As every obstacle tips the scale,

And each pace comes to no avail,

Hold tight your will, your guiding sail,

For, with it, you shall never fail."

performance poetry

About the author



Hello all! I am an aspiring vocalist, filmmaker + writer. I hope you gain something personal + inspiring from my work here. You are also welcome to subscribe to my YouTube Channel: Ad-Libbing With The Zman.

Thank You!



Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.