The Last Seven Minutes - By Sukanya Das

Written By: Sukanya Das

Category: Poetry

Competition: Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Sukanya Das, writing under the name "Dear Isabella," presents "The Last Seven Minutes," a stirring poetic entry in the Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This heartfelt piece delves into themes of love, separation, and the ravages of war, capturing moments of tenderness and despair. Through vivid imagery and emotional depth, Sukanya weaves a narrative that resonates with universal human experiences.

About the Work

"The Last Seven Minutes" captures a poignant narrative that explores the intersection of youthful love and the harsh realities of war. Sukanya Das uses evocative language and vivid imagery to portray the emotional journey of two young souls, Percival and Isabella, separated by conflict yet bound by love. The poem's rich, emotive style invites readers to experience the intense longing and ultimate sacrifice faced by the characters.

Dear Isabella

Original Submission by Sukanya Das

The last seven minutes, before my eyes closed…

Your image, in my tired mind posed,

Your crystal clear eyes, a dimple on your cheek

Your sweet little voice, gentle and meek,

Was what I heard, when surrender was imposed…

I was a growing fifteen, and you were ten,

Too young to understand the world of men,

Made for bows, and ribbons of delight

Playing around as a cuckoo-bird might-

In the sunlight-draped backyard glen.

Christmas came, I had come to your home,

Watching you in that pretty dress roam,

As people approached to pinch your cheek,

You curtsied at ‘em- it made my knees go weak,

I felt as lost as a wee garden gnome.

I gathered all my courage, and stepped right up,

Fingers trembling as I set down my teacup,

I held out my hand like a leaf in a trance,

With eyes full of twilight, I asked you to dance.

While you bloomed pretty as a yellow buttercup.

You shook your head, cheeks a scarlet hue,

The bow in your hair, striking cornflower blue

You hid in the folds of your mother’s silken dress,

Clutching the fabric, in shy distress-

Your eyes kissed with hues of morning dew…

And so I waited, long through endless years,

Through triumphs great, and tender tears,

Ten long years passed, you knew me more,

I lingered, entranced to my innermost core,

By you, always you, the sole ache I adore!

The seasons- they changed, I grew into a young lad

You grew older too, quieter which is a little sad…

You still called me “Dearest”, often made me stutter,

My heart stumbled, then broke into a flutter…

You just tapped my nose, called me a little mad.

But across several countries, where peace didn’t last,

With weapons strong, knives polished, and armies vast,

Trouble was arriving quick, ready to descend

Men aimed sharp, to attack, and defend

Worry spread like fire, and fire? It spreads fast.

And soon war broke out, across the world so dear,

I was called away, much to my hidden fear,

I went with my father, to be a soldier brave,

To return much later, battle-scarred and grave,

Or perhaps, pay God a visit? Far, yet so near?

Glancing over my shoulder, before walking away

There was terror in your eyes, you quietly looked away

Trusting I would be back, my chin held high,

I walked away in silence, unable to see you cry.

Hiding my own stray tears, as a true man may.

I was dragged to the front, where all eyes fell on me,

With Generals and Colonels as far as could be,

A rifle was pressed in my well-tended hands,

Beneath me lay nothing but desolate lands,

All drowning in red to the deepest degree..

Gunshots and battle-cries, split the air all day,

No safe refuge or hollow, to rest, sleep or stay,

Every day was just another escapade from death,

As all our best fighters heaved their last breath,

And hope slowly withered, then faded away…

In the midst of the streaked rivers of scarlet,

A fresh letter I received under the night starlit.

You wrote of your concern, that you were well,

You thought of me all day, that in your heart I dwell.

Your ink became my solace, a gentle hue of violet.

Another comrade lost, yet I couldn’t care less.

My mind, my heart, my thoughts all seemed a mess,

As I read your letter, so precious and clear,

“Percival, my love, you were never ever so dear,

As you have become lately, and I confess…”

“I confess, my dearest, sweetest, most unselfish boy,

I have played about cruelly, as though you were a toy.

But I have since realised my wrongs, Oh allow me-

To ask for your apology, humble as I can be,

For, I have lost my heart to you, Oh joy-“

My eyes read no further, I heard a victorious cry,

And a searing pain tore through my head, oh my…

My dear Izzie, shouldst thou read this today, remember,

I shall forever stay in thy heart, January to December,

My love, my affection for you, I swear, shall never die.

And thus clutching his head, a body fell to the ground

Isabella’s letter, clutched near the heart, safe and sound

As if not even death, could do the two apart

For love is strange… It is bound to the heart,

Alive still, in the crimson, in which the body had drowned.

Before his eyes closed, Percival glanced at his killer

Never would he be able to look into her eyes and tell her…

He wished to care for her, the way for him she had done,

To be hers till the end of time and reality in one

To be the one she loved, and not just her lover…

Not once ever again, could he hold her hands in his

Not once… would he be able to give her that sweet kiss.

Oh Hark the heart that knows love not, forever forged in hate,

Oh Hark the life that knows love not, miserable and desolate,

Oh Hark Isabella, and her Percival, denied cruelly, their promised bliss…

About the Competition

The Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 hosted by Hashtag Kalakar is a celebration of literary talent and creativity. This platform brings together writers from diverse backgrounds to share their unique voices and stories with a global audience. The competition fosters a community of wordsmiths, encouraging the exploration of innovative themes and artistic expression.

Thank you, Sukanya Das, for sharing "The Last Seven Minutes" with us in the Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Your work poignantly captures the endurance of love amidst adversity, leaving a lasting impression on readers. We appreciate your contribution and eagerly anticipate more of your evocative storytelling.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.