Sodden Earth's: Moon Howler To: Alan B. Shepard

When lunus maximus is key to transforming my otherworldy glee. Straight to the moon's face. Abort and about in the greatest outreaches of the beyond in space. I put on a spectre's guise. Hiding in the stratosphere's suprise. A coal black filter to a rocket propelled tilter. A ride of fanfare and an ambition of neglect for all other wares. Pushing farther than the lithosphere. A chart of the galaxy a navigator has to adhere. Into the pitch black core fissure of constricted equinimity to the physics absolution of viscous conductivity. Panic ensnared with all of humanity's chaos having it fared. Constricting the hull tight with timeslipping vacuums entering forever night. Infrequent timing to enlist your own pilot's instrumentation. Definitive coalition to the vessel's prattling migration. To my stary moon master subsequent to an allegory's crafter. I enter the droned with a dividing steel girdered plow. To venture the twilight with a craftier plight than thou.