The ground beneath his feet was hard, flat, sun dried earth. Water had not touched the soil in generations. A farmer in the distance was trying to till the earth, but his plow had broken. Leaning down in the sun, his shadow was cast long on the ground. His spirit was breaking. Many summers too long.
Rough, jagged.
Barreling through like there is nothing left
my bones ache,
weary from the weight of the world,
a stones throw away
I see salvation,
a hand reaching for me,
hope.
A glimmer of something more.
Now if only I,
can find the strength to cross to the shore
I climbed the terrain with nibble feet, stumbling only over those obstacles that proved to high for only a moment. I must continue on this uneven terrain of life, growing ever more strong yet ever more weary. Preparing me for my next adventure.
the terrain was rough, rocks everywhere. no where to walk. the dark was engulfing us. we were drowning in the silence. how did we get here, where even is here?
I would walked across the hills, mountains
Maybe even fire for you.
For the terrain is but a platform,
For the climate is but a background,
Our love is beyond this world.
The terrain is really nice here. I didn’t think I’d like it but I really do. Did you know there are 37 types of trees here? And the grass! It’s just starting to die, setting the stage for fall. I think I love fall and this terrain. Yup.
the terrain is beautiful with wonderful blue skys above and animals below um um um um um um um um um um i like it yo its so perfect um ujm u mu mu m um u mi dont lkmnow
Rocky and wild
Side of a mountain
Lush and plush
Variances
For four-wheeling
For hiking
For gazing
For drawing
I don’t know which
Is my favorite
But I love the earth
The terrain was so rough. There were so many rocks and sage brushes. I could no longer run, then all of a sudden, I was in a jungle, running through the thick leaves and roots. I was constantly tripping and stumbling. Snakes slithered at my feet. I accidentally stepped on one, sending it into screams and hisses. Never again will I go running!
Your boots crashed through the messy terrain. The massive fauna curling around your legs and trees looming over you, shadowing you from the beating and pulsing sun above. You felt your ankle twist as you misplaced your foot and as you came crashing down a bird called out in the distance, a long, lonely, solitary cry.
Red and dusty. Dan was so tired of the constant red hues and pervasive dust. Mars. Better than the Moon his brother had said but he wasn’t here and the Moon had full biospheres now so what did he know, really? Dan had at least been to the Moon and knew the difference but he knew that Jared was just trying to comfort him.
The terrain around Kodiak is varied, green, undulating. It’s at times uneven, strewn with rocks from a volcanic age. It’s at times steep, where the mountains reach for the sea. It’s at times flat, where the earthquake and tsunamis have leveled the region. It’s home.
Four more hours. Just four more hours and they would finally be home. The weather had been bad enough: constant, icy rain like knives from God, stinging their faces and turning the terrain below into a swampy mess. But the worst part? It wasn’t the rain, or the mud, or even the fatigue: it was Johnson’s godawful, nonstop singing. It was enough to make a a man miss the roar of the battlefield.
You’re going to live. You’re going to be the mother that buries her daughter; I am sorry, but the hike can’t stop. You have always been the strong one.
The shepherds will not stop dragging the goat up the terrain. Its legs are too short and they trip over every gray stone or thick patch of emerald grass. When it bleats for its mother, the men laugh. One shepherd, with heavy black boots, kicks it. It cries harder. They keep dragging it, keep pulling at the rope around its neck, until it can’t bleat any longer and it leaves a streak of blood in the emerald grass.
He took the last step on the crest and peered over to see what lay before him. Hills and dune rose above and beyond, each one a contour on the world’s largest land, merely a bump in a road that never seemed to end as it stretched on as far as the eye could see. Valleys and dips cracked the surface of the world like imperfections, and the sun glared down and lighted it all up for the man. There was a lot left to explore.
I don’t know what to write. What does this word even mean to anyone? Is it all just a fleeting moment in the mortal existence, this time spent on earth, gazing back at the stars? Actually the stars have dimmed in recent years, but not of their own recourses. Technology, as much as it has opened the new terrain of understanding, has blocked the vision.
The terrain ahead looked menacing–nothing like the last time he ventured home. How long ago was that? Sixteen, seventeen years? He was dating Karly, or Kathy, or something starting with a “K”. She had to sleep downstairs so they wouldn’t get in any trouble.
It was so strange. Nothing seemed familiar. I was lost, but I wasn’t afraid. I was excited, ready for adventure. “Carol,” I said. She looked at me and returned my grin. “Let’s go.”
The terrain was alien and unfamiliar. Jesse stepped out of the landing craft, her descent slightly slower than it would have been on Earth. “Not too bad,” she thought. “Not that I’d want to live here or anything, but we could work with this.” The barren, red landscape was not what a traditionalist would call beautiful, but she saw its raw, untapped potential.
I couldn’t help but stare at the desolate, empty, scarred terrain. There was nothing left. And I felt broken inside. Nothingness had taken over and the land was lost. Nothing will remain there forever more.
I want to discover a place with a vast terrain like I have never seen before. Somewhere like Ireland, where the hills roll and it is mountainous and green and there is a sense of freedom and new beginning. I need a place that gives me the open range to run and never come back. Somewhere like Ireland.
It was a rocky terrain that Chuck found himself. He could not remember how or where he came from. All he knew that he was disoriented and he couldn’t see any civilization around him.
How did he get here? What had happened?
These questions popped in his mind but no answers formed.
the terrain was so rough… he hiked and hiked, straigt up it seemed. the sweat dripped and ran down the side of his cheeks. He stopped at the top of the hill, to regroup. He wondered if he would be able to finish this trek he started.
The terrain was hot and harsh, and we were running low on water. I stopped on a specific sandy perch and checked the contents of my canteen. Half empty. I passed the flagon to Jeremy, who only let a few drops settle on his tongue before passing it back to me.
“I can handle a bit of dehydration,” he tried to assure me. “You just concentrate on staying strong.”
I nodded. Sometimes Jeremy was too altruistic for his own good, and from the looks of his gaunt face, he wasn’t just being meager with his water rations these days, either.
How is the terrain of your heart? Are you hard like the stone cobble that you journey over, or are you soft like the moist ground that runs through your hands?
If I planted my love, would you let it grow? Or is it stubborn, and obbrasive?
Let me take route in your soul. Let me love you and change you.
the terrain was rugged and rough. There was little plants growing on the ground. There was only rock and dried out mud. I was walking, trudging through the sand, my shoes became filled with sand.
Terrain is a word to express landscape. My favourite terrains are mountain and trails. I love oceansides as well. I feel my best when I am running in the great outdoors. It doesn’t even matter the weather. Rain, wind, sun or snow.
she knew the terrain well. it was the place she had grown up, the place she intended to raise her daughter. and now here it was change. change everywhere. places had closed down, new ones had opened up and it was nothing short of spectacular to see the city had evolved.
The ground beneath his feet was hard, flat, sun dried earth. Water had not touched the soil in generations. A farmer in the distance was trying to till the earth, but his plow had broken. Leaning down in the sun, his shadow was cast long on the ground. His spirit was breaking. Many summers too long.
Eh.
Rough, jagged.
Barreling through like there is nothing left
my bones ache,
weary from the weight of the world,
a stones throw away
I see salvation,
a hand reaching for me,
hope.
A glimmer of something more.
Now if only I,
can find the strength to cross to the shore
I climbed the terrain with nibble feet, stumbling only over those obstacles that proved to high for only a moment. I must continue on this uneven terrain of life, growing ever more strong yet ever more weary. Preparing me for my next adventure.
the terrain was rough, rocks everywhere. no where to walk. the dark was engulfing us. we were drowning in the silence. how did we get here, where even is here?
I would walked across the hills, mountains
Maybe even fire for you.
For the terrain is but a platform,
For the climate is but a background,
Our love is beyond this world.
The terrain is really nice here. I didn’t think I’d like it but I really do. Did you know there are 37 types of trees here? And the grass! It’s just starting to die, setting the stage for fall. I think I love fall and this terrain. Yup.
the terrain is beautiful with wonderful blue skys above and animals below um um um um um um um um um um i like it yo its so perfect um ujm u mu mu m um u mi dont lkmnow
Terrain again? We’ve literally done it at LEAST three times already. It’s not even a great word! Ugh.
How many people living in the terrain decides its diversity.
Rocky and wild
Side of a mountain
Lush and plush
Variances
For four-wheeling
For hiking
For gazing
For drawing
I don’t know which
Is my favorite
But I love the earth
The terrain was so rough. There were so many rocks and sage brushes. I could no longer run, then all of a sudden, I was in a jungle, running through the thick leaves and roots. I was constantly tripping and stumbling. Snakes slithered at my feet. I accidentally stepped on one, sending it into screams and hisses. Never again will I go running!
This place, again?
Or is it deja vu, a wisp of something half remembered and long forgotten?
Sometimes these things “feel” designed to confuse you, the oasis, the mirage, the terrain.
Sometimes these elements are entirely coincidental and it’s up to the observer what to make of it.
Your boots crashed through the messy terrain. The massive fauna curling around your legs and trees looming over you, shadowing you from the beating and pulsing sun above. You felt your ankle twist as you misplaced your foot and as you came crashing down a bird called out in the distance, a long, lonely, solitary cry.
Red and dusty. Dan was so tired of the constant red hues and pervasive dust. Mars. Better than the Moon his brother had said but he wasn’t here and the Moon had full biospheres now so what did he know, really? Dan had at least been to the Moon and knew the difference but he knew that Jared was just trying to comfort him.
and we ran, hand in hand, across the empty plains. you told me you loved me with your sweaty palms and i said it back with a kiss when we stopped.
Terrain could be interpreted as a dream with hard surfaces!
The terrain around Kodiak is varied, green, undulating. It’s at times uneven, strewn with rocks from a volcanic age. It’s at times steep, where the mountains reach for the sea. It’s at times flat, where the earthquake and tsunamis have leveled the region. It’s home.
Four more hours. Just four more hours and they would finally be home. The weather had been bad enough: constant, icy rain like knives from God, stinging their faces and turning the terrain below into a swampy mess. But the worst part? It wasn’t the rain, or the mud, or even the fatigue: it was Johnson’s godawful, nonstop singing. It was enough to make a a man miss the roar of the battlefield.
You’re going to live. You’re going to be the mother that buries her daughter; I am sorry, but the hike can’t stop. You have always been the strong one.
War over TERRAIN
Is the death of many that
Followed dumb leaders.
Often for glory
A mere map line to a king
Man’s past… filled with fools.
The shepherds will not stop dragging the goat up the terrain. Its legs are too short and they trip over every gray stone or thick patch of emerald grass. When it bleats for its mother, the men laugh. One shepherd, with heavy black boots, kicks it. It cries harder. They keep dragging it, keep pulling at the rope around its neck, until it can’t bleat any longer and it leaves a streak of blood in the emerald grass.
He took the last step on the crest and peered over to see what lay before him. Hills and dune rose above and beyond, each one a contour on the world’s largest land, merely a bump in a road that never seemed to end as it stretched on as far as the eye could see. Valleys and dips cracked the surface of the world like imperfections, and the sun glared down and lighted it all up for the man. There was a lot left to explore.
The terrain is rough.
I don’t know what to write. What does this word even mean to anyone? Is it all just a fleeting moment in the mortal existence, this time spent on earth, gazing back at the stars? Actually the stars have dimmed in recent years, but not of their own recourses. Technology, as much as it has opened the new terrain of understanding, has blocked the vision.
The terrain ahead looked menacing–nothing like the last time he ventured home. How long ago was that? Sixteen, seventeen years? He was dating Karly, or Kathy, or something starting with a “K”. She had to sleep downstairs so they wouldn’t get in any trouble.
It was so strange. Nothing seemed familiar. I was lost, but I wasn’t afraid. I was excited, ready for adventure. “Carol,” I said. She looked at me and returned my grin. “Let’s go.”
The terrain was alien and unfamiliar. Jesse stepped out of the landing craft, her descent slightly slower than it would have been on Earth. “Not too bad,” she thought. “Not that I’d want to live here or anything, but we could work with this.” The barren, red landscape was not what a traditionalist would call beautiful, but she saw its raw, untapped potential.
The terrain of the back garden was more unstable than a discarded fence after a tornado.
I couldn’t help but stare at the desolate, empty, scarred terrain. There was nothing left. And I felt broken inside. Nothingness had taken over and the land was lost. Nothing will remain there forever more.
I want to discover a place with a vast terrain like I have never seen before. Somewhere like Ireland, where the hills roll and it is mountainous and green and there is a sense of freedom and new beginning. I need a place that gives me the open range to run and never come back. Somewhere like Ireland.
It was a rocky terrain that Chuck found himself. He could not remember how or where he came from. All he knew that he was disoriented and he couldn’t see any civilization around him.
How did he get here? What had happened?
These questions popped in his mind but no answers formed.
the terrain was so rough… he hiked and hiked, straigt up it seemed. the sweat dripped and ran down the side of his cheeks. He stopped at the top of the hill, to regroup. He wondered if he would be able to finish this trek he started.
The terrain was hot and harsh, and we were running low on water. I stopped on a specific sandy perch and checked the contents of my canteen. Half empty. I passed the flagon to Jeremy, who only let a few drops settle on his tongue before passing it back to me.
“I can handle a bit of dehydration,” he tried to assure me. “You just concentrate on staying strong.”
I nodded. Sometimes Jeremy was too altruistic for his own good, and from the looks of his gaunt face, he wasn’t just being meager with his water rations these days, either.
How is the terrain of your heart? Are you hard like the stone cobble that you journey over, or are you soft like the moist ground that runs through your hands?
If I planted my love, would you let it grow? Or is it stubborn, and obbrasive?
Let me take route in your soul. Let me love you and change you.
the terrain was rugged and rough. There was little plants growing on the ground. There was only rock and dried out mud. I was walking, trudging through the sand, my shoes became filled with sand.
The terrain was green and grassy, with the winds blowing the grasses to a fro like the waves in the sea.
Rocky terrain is a great opportunity to hop rocks…make lemon aide out of lemons…
Terrain is a word to express landscape. My favourite terrains are mountain and trails. I love oceansides as well. I feel my best when I am running in the great outdoors. It doesn’t even matter the weather. Rain, wind, sun or snow.
she knew the terrain well. it was the place she had grown up, the place she intended to raise her daughter. and now here it was change. change everywhere. places had closed down, new ones had opened up and it was nothing short of spectacular to see the city had evolved.