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.