The way you walked was thorny, through no fault of your own, but as the rain enters the soil, the river enters the sea, so tears run to a predestined end. Your suffering is over, Bela my son. Now you will find peace.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
1802 | 2024-03-25 23:47:46 | 92.22 | 98.3% |