Author's Note: So, I felt like doing something slightly different than what I've been doing…even though I really don't know what I have been doing. Lmfao.

So, this fic is inspired by a collection of poems from William Blake's "Songs of Innocence." I might do some from "Songs of Experience," the poems that were published in a separate book a few years later, but go along with the ones in the previous book. I adore his style and how eloquent his words appear.

And this is me relating some of those poems to D. Gray-man.

Disclaimer: I do not own D. Gray-man or any of these poems—the former is owned by Hishino, and the latter by William Blake.

"Songs of Innocence"

Chapter 1: The Lamb


Little Lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?

Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,

By the stream and o'er the mead;

Gave thee clothing of delight,

Softest clothing, woolly, bright;

Allen Walker was a simple boy; his existence can be breathtakingly simplified by one word—beautiful. Who could have made such a wonderful young boy? He carried himself as if he walked on air. This small boy could easily turn heads, just by his appearance. Snow white, fluffy hair, resembling that of a sheep's, decorated his pale face and contrasted with his dark clothing.

The scar on his cheek could pale in comparison to the rest of his perfection. It was all part of him, and though a curse, it was redeemed on his face, and made into a device for humanity. His stormy gray eyes held the glee of childishness, yet the knowledge of a learned scholar. They held an incomprehensible understanding that could make the coldest of hearts melt if he wishes. Those two eyes have seen more evils, yet radiate the most good out of any known person.

Allen Walker gives life and ends suffering, is selfless and serving. He gives the world tenfold of what it has given him, and remains to still offer more. His soul could never diminish.

Gave thee such a tender voice,

Making all the vales rejoice?

Little Lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?

Allen Walker's smile was the epitome of happiness. It was sugary sweet, perfectly set on his small lips. The loveable expressions his face is capable of could easily attract anyone to him. It was borderline cute.

And that smile hardly ever faltered, and his voice always commanded attention. It was small, angelic, and absent of the gruffness that life had given him. He made people want to listen to him, catch every pearly word that he said. It seemed as if this sheepishly strong boy could never do any wrong, could never sin…could maybe even be perfect.

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee.

He is called by thy name,

For He calls Himself a Lamb.

He is meek, and He is mild;

He became a little child.

I a child, and thou a lamb,

We are called by His name.

Battling on, this child is scarred. But look, he is but a child, not a man! He was never sheltered from the evils of the world, forced into the harshest of conditions, but, no, it has not turned this boy away from God. It might have made him even more pure, a light in this devastated world.

Little Lamb, God bless thee!

Little Lamb, God bless thee!

Allen Walker is the Child of God.


Author's Note: I thought this was a nice change of pace for me, since I've been writing a lot of Allen angst. Hahaha.

So the author's notes will be a bit long for a while, but bear with me.

Explanations of the poem:

1) Mead is a meadow

2) Vales are valleys

3) In the last few lines, He refers to Jesus, as does Lamb, since in the New Testament, Jesus is referred to the Lamb of God. So this poem not only deals with God, but also Jesus.

I is not a Jesus freak. lol

Hopefully this is likeable, because I have at least two or three more chapters planned out! =]

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