Seval

Blog

  • There Was A Man

    there was a man
    only a few years ago
    he would pack his backpack to the brim
    leaving no room for life’s gifts
    while others hiked through the woods
    he would run — over hills and wild paths
    grabbing freedom by its wings
    lifting the sky with his story,
    and letting lakes cleanse his darkness.

    then one day came
    the backpack became a heavy suitcase
    the wings, they bid him farewell
    shadows wrapped around him
    and trust had long been broken.
    though he dreams, at times, of that perfect wilderness
    what remains now
    are just high ceilings.

    The Poet Saw Her Will

  • To Describe You

    I found you in a cover version of a song.
    It was more beautiful than the original,
    more emotional,
    much better.
    The notes were the same,
    but the instruments—far more beautiful.

    I found you in an old map.
    It was handmade.
    All the details—
    meticulously crafted
    by the most talented people.
    Their hands must have trembled
    with the weight of meaning
    as they drew the lines that led to you.

    Your name appeared
    among the hidden books of an old bookstore.
    It was the most epic history book I’d ever read.
    No genre could truly capture you—
    but still,
    someone once tried.

    To describe you,
    one would need to learn
    from the time when myths and legends merged,
    from unspoiled natural wonders,
    from rare and quiet landscapes,
    from the greatest musicians of their era,
    from artists who led entire movements,
    from a ruler who opened a new age,
    from people remembered
    for the good they gave to the world.

    Still,
    I don’t know if even that would be enough
    to describe you.
    But even trying—
    was beautiful.

    The Poet Saw Her Will

  • The Unexpected Guest

    I never quite warmed up
    to the unexpected guest—
    whether a person, a feeling,
    or the sudden stretch of distance.

    No matter how much I trained myself
    to be ready for anything,
    every uninvited thing
    took a piece of me.

    And the more I tried to patch it,
    the more I realized:
    not every tear
    needs to be closed the same way.

    My soul began to expand
    with every seam,
    my heart grew
    with every fracture.

    Until it gleamed—
    like a cloak stitched with sacred light.

    Some only saw the shimmer,
    some noticed the craftsmanship.
    But the ones who truly saw,
    turned their gaze and stayed.

    Loving myself became
    the most sacred part of the journey.
    And each time I chose to stand with myself,
    my soul blessed me in return.

    But no matter how deeply I loved,
    I never worshipped anyone.
    Sometimes I loved gently,
    sometimes wildly,
    and sometimes I buried my feelings
    in the chorus of a breakup song.

    And yes—
    I know how to say goodbye
    softly.

    Still…
    instead of being
    an unexpected guest—
    be someone
    too extraordinary to ever be predicted.

    Only then
    will my soul
    love you with the kind of care
    that shelters stars.

    And always remember:
    Every sonata holds
    only the notes that are meant to be.

    The Poet Saw Her Will

  • To the Longest Daylight

    You were like the view from a train journey to me.
    For someone who had never traveled by train before, you were overwhelmingly alluring,
    untouchable even—
    so majestic,
    I didn’t dare turn my head for even a second.
    I was afraid if I did, I’d miss one moment of you,
    and one moment lost would cost me a lifetime.
    So I locked my gaze on the view.
    On you.

    Nature passed between us,
    and smiled at me.
    Bridges carried me over your gleaming waters.
    Unaware of all that unfolded inside that train,
    I only realized I’d fallen under your spell
    when I noticed my tears—
    not because I was sad,
    but because I had stared too long without blinking.
    And I hadn’t even felt
    my inner world spilling over as those tears quietly left me.
    I had stopped asking every logical question—
    first and foremost: “Why?”

    You left me in scenes I had never felt before,
    never lived through,
    and naturally fumbled to make sense of.
    Your image became a symbol, a poem,
    a guest in the novel I was building,
    a character I didn’t invite—
    but who became the most beloved part.
    You became the sentences that wrote themselves
    faster than my hand could keep up,
    words lined up in awe, just to reflect your presence.

    Whenever I tried to walk away,
    I found myself in pages written for you—
    tangled in poems that fell apart at the sight of your eyes.
    No rhyme felt worthy.
    Every verse bent its head.
    The words competed, but poetry doesn’t beg.
    You can’t write too much—
    you can’t leave it short.
    And yet, you composed your own melody
    within the most lyrical tone I ever owned.

    You entered my life like a symphony—
    unexpected, but the most beautiful I’ve ever heard.
    And now,
    even if I wanted to,
    I can’t send you away.
    More than that,
    I realized I don’t want to.
    Because somewhere along the way,
    you became the most essential part of my transformation.

    You’ve settled into a space I couldn’t fill with anyone or anything else.
    I won’t try to remove you—
    because I know,
    those eyes of yours would convince me otherwise.

    To lose to your gaze
    was to learn that even defeat
    can be beautiful.

    You are my most beautiful defeat.
    Happy birthday.

    Even if life began for you through heavy choices,
    I’m grateful you’re here.
    I don’t want to imagine a world
    where you don’t exist.

    Seval.

  • Started Long Ago, Unfolding Now

    When I try to describe myself or express who I am, the first thing that comes to mind is a quote by Kahlil Gibran:
    “Only once did my tongue falter—when a man asked me, ‘Who are you?’”
    Since then, I’ve spent a long time trying to explain who I am.
    Over time, I realized that trying to fit myself into a single definition is no different than answering the question “What time is it?” with “I don’t know—it’s constantly moving.”

    Still, if I had to offer a description of myself, like a title on the cover of a book, it would be something like this:
    Seval is someone who is constantly evolving, learning, striving to become the best version of herself; someone who carries the changes life brings—sometimes on her face, sometimes in her heart, sometimes in her character.
    She is endlessly joyful, intellectual, artistic, creative, emotional, rational—and sometimes, amidst all of this, still searching for who she truly is.

    I know it’s not an unusual description. But then again, I’m not someone you’re used to.
    In most people’s lives, I might be “that girl”—the one who’s a bit different, not always understood, but somehow good-hearted. Still, when I speak about myself, I prefer to use my own words.

    The things that make me different often show up in the weather.
    Sounds funny, doesn’t it?
    Though I’m absolutely a morning person, I feel as though I can find a story in every shade of the sky.
    My favorite times are early mornings, the blue hour just after sunset, and those quiet moments when night slowly takes over.

    While I adore cloudy skies, I also love those crisp, sunny days with a gentle breeze.
    But the moments that move me the most—and always guide my writing—have been rainy days.
    As if there’s a secret agreement between us, rain somehow helps my words find their way. I consider it one of the most special presences in my life.

    After living within certain patterns for years, I stopped playing the roles that were assigned to me and began creating new ones of my own.
    Yes, I admit—it has a touch of rebellion.
    But I believe that drawing one’s own boundaries and striving for what’s best for oneself is one of the most meaningful things we can do in this world.

    That’s why I left the bank where I worked for many years.
    I left the neighborhood, the city, even the country I had lived in for so long.

    It wouldn’t be very rational to say every decision in life is taken perfectly and executed easily.
    Of course, I’ve had moments where I questioned my choices, struggled with difficult emotions, consumed things too quickly, and failed to notice what was really happening.
    One of the hardest parts was realizing that my family, too, quietly went through that transition with me.

    Still, through everything, being able to stand tall, stay true to my values, and remain loyal to my ever-evolving vision—those have been the most beautiful things in my life.
    Even now, I’m discovering the beauty of that.

    With everything I’ve learned, I’m stepping into a new life—perhaps a new journey—with the family I’ve built.
    And every time I manage to reclaim lost moments from the grip of passing hours, I’ll invite you to join me in that journey.

    I’ve kept every promise I’ve made in my life. And I’ve never made a promise I couldn’t keep.
    Maybe that’s because I was trying to understand myself—or maybe because I’ve always had a quiet aversion to final statements.
    Either way, I’m content with the outcome.

    So here’s what I can say:
    As long as I keep being myself, continue to understand my place and purpose in this life, strive for my family’s happiness, and work to make my writing better—
    I’ll be truly happy to have you beside me on this journey.

    Maybe one day, these words will fall into someone’s turning point…
    Or perhaps they’ll simply spark a smile.
    Maybe they’ll be read with quiet seriousness on a sleepless night—
    Or casually, in between bites of lunch during a break.

    Whether read in a blog, a book, in a café, or curled up at the edge of a bed—
    If my words can accompany someone’s inner journey, that alone brings me joy.

    Thank you for being here.
    I’m truly glad you are.

    Seval.