The evening of convergence onto a table
Remains yet to be seen by attendees fabled
Swift and briefly a blur
Shan't incur four alike in nature
As the curtain raises
And performers take their places
Look alive! Do not avert your eyes.
Welcome back to the inferno undying!
Trying the audience's patience
With unwieldy complacency,
Set the scence of four chairs,
And witness a tarnished state of affairs.
Avoid eye contact with Granduncle.
Lest he recalls any and all of your disdain
Sickening anyone with his vibratiuncle.
Much less Father and his bane
Of the OTHER side...
With whom we no longer abide.
Notice the empty seats across the way.
Overtime they left in slow decay,
Now replaced with a convenient fellow
Who claims love yet is merely a bedfellow
To Father that disregards the dysfunctionality abound
Lurking around each of our grounds with sanctity desecrated.

Start a conversation short in length
And wonder for not too long about her death.
Wherever did she go as dead as she likely is?
Speak on her vaguely using only euphemise...
Or rage will engulf the home
That can never again be polychrome,
Monochrome in spirit and composition;
Not I who'd have enough diction
To explain what happened here would only bring pain
All those involved were traumatised and distrained with nothing to gain.

Mark me now, it shall not come to pass.