Title: Optional

Text: That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood has also denied me the joys of the flesh. This face, the infection which poisons our love. This face, which earned a mother's fear and loathing. A mask, my first unfeeling scrap of clothing. Pity comes too late, turn around and face your fate. An eternity of this before your eyes! Each paragraph will be a test.

Save test: Use this if you want to share this typing test (only for authenticated users).