Sorrow sits at the head of the table
eyes downcast and mouth pinched
Strife is to her left, seething
fork clutched like a dagger
Agony remains at the right
silent as a heartbreak
Greed and Grief, the twins
parallel and smirking over their plates
Triumph faces Sorrow
sinking into her chair, wretched and low
Peace is in their centre
bleeding all over the cloth
apple in her broken mouth
They are having lamb for dinner