Lethe

When I awoke I tried to ground my brain
In the darkness of mankin's memory,
But the only memory to remain
Was a vague entry on eternity.
In a mirror I unearthed the birthmark
Of my century. The world was shaken,
Until birds shed their feathers, trees lost bark,
And all that had been given was taken
Back. All of life retreated to the sea,
Where the trouble began. Nothing will come
From nothing. Inside the garden, a tree
Whose fruit portends all human loss and doom.
Outside I stand, until otherwise proved,
Under the impression I am not loved.