Succession
Smell of old books
filling my nostrils.
Columns, shelves
stacked to the brim.
A small old man,
in front of a desk.
Shorter than me,
I, only five summers old,
lured by the book.
To be like those before me
and travel like them,
I dreamed.
My little hands,
gripping an old tome.
Words, images spun
out from the book.
Joy, interest sparked,
a thrill to read.
Hidden history,
Passed from person to person,
You know something
no one else knows.
with that knowledge
I became a successor.
Random Notes: I've always wanted to know more about Lavi's past and this is a product of one of my broodings. The last five lines are near quotes from Lavi. I wanted to end the poem with his thoughts.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lavi or Bookman. D. Gray-man is not my creation, that right belongs to Katsura Hoshino.