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.