Filled with precipitation, And not to boast, The most diverse biome. Finer roast.

The ground around me is forgiving to a fall, but deadly without understanding. Near or far, people traverse on me for beauty or sport. Here beauty can turn to a swirl of chaos.

Airline. Change. River. Slope. Triangle. Discriminant. Particle. Is it just me, or am I starting to sound Greek?

In hallways where the holy gather, you might bump into a Father. I could be green in the middle, can you solve this strange riddle?

Cities shrink beneath my skin, oceans curl and fold within. Though flat and still upon your lap, I unfurl the world from paper scrap