The Lament of the Horta

In caverns deep, where molten rivers creep,
And starlight never pierced the stony womb,
A mother stirred from her eternal sleep,
To guard her brood within that fiery tomb.

The miners came with flame and thunder’s roar,
Their drills like demons biting into stone;
They broke the halls where ancient spirits soar,
And left her kindred scattered, crushed, alone.

She moved — a shadow writ in molten fire,
A crawling grief that seared the trembling ground;
Yet still within her burned a pure desire,
To keep her children safe, unmaimed, unbound.

Spock’s mind reached forth — a bridge of thought and pain,
Where sorrow’s voice was neither beast nor lie;
He touched her grief, and felt the crimson rain,
Of countless deaths beneath a stranger’s sky.

And Kirk, with wisdom tempered in the flame,
Saw life where once he only saw the foe;
He named her not a terror, not a shame,
But kindred spirit, suffering below.

So learn, ye wanderers through the starry dark,
That life wears shapes no mortal thought may bind;
And often where we fear a beastly mark,
There beats the heart of something true, and kind.

ref:
http://www.chakoteya.net/StarTrek/26.htm
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Devil_in_the_Dark