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 |
---|---|---|---|
1926 | 2019-06-23 21:58:25 | 92.34 | 99% |