Gray Skies, Swirling  With  Soot.  Stony 
 Ground  With  No  Hints  Of  Vegetation. 
                                          
 Below   The   Surface   Are  The  Mines, 
 Spiraling  Down Into  The  Crust.  Small 
 Compared To  The Caverns They Eventually 
 Reach And Join With.  The Temperature Is 
 Higher Down  Here, And  The  View Is Not 
 As  Monochrome:  A  Green  Light Beckons 
               From Below.                
                                          
 Long Ago, There Was A Lifeform  Here. In 
 The  Center Of  The Planetoid, Something 
 Dormant,  Waiting For  A  Collision With 
 Another   Body.   But   No  Planet   Was 
 Reached,  And  Over  Time, The  Seedling 
             Became A Sludge.             
                                          
 And  Elves   Came  As  Miners,  And  The 
            Sludge Was Bottled.           
                                          
  
                                        
    
                                      
      
                                    
      The Cargo Ship Is Filled,     
         Prepared For Launch,       
      Ignition Sequence Started     
       Hours Ago. Elves In The      
      Passenger Cabin, Not Yet      
      Seated. But Something Is      
      Wrong. There Is Something     
      Green Around Their Mouths.    
    The Sludge Has Been Sampled,    
        Entertained, And Then       
         Finally Binged On.         
                                    
    The Engines Are Burning Hot,    
         And The Ship Accelerates         
           Away. The Elves Have           
        Strapped Themselves In, And       
       Are Lying Completely Still,        
               Like Corpses.