My cloudy blue vase sits empty on my table.
It's dust has collected and it is begrimed with the scattered remains of a few flower petals.
Its still, fixed to its corner that was once glorified.
Now, like a statue that honours the fallen, it has withered with the years and its significance reduced to a mere look of passing.
Why not adorn it on my own with the desired flowers?
Well thats because my cloudy blue vase awaits a certain bloom.