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.