Waste

Nightmares in the landscape
Subtle but just enough to make one weary of apprehension's grip
Vicelike in the moons absence

Invisible stumbling blocks
It's a most unbecoming prospect
Invoked by the disturbing caterwaul
Of primal urges

A labrynth of proposals untouched for so long
They've started to mildew
And theres not enough ammonia in the world
To cut through the stench
A stench thats been left to foul beyond the peak of its own must.

Fires rage
Untouchable and untamed
Consuming whatever they please
No matter how unseemly.

This is what I've got to work with.