The withered leaves collect at my feet and the wind begins to moan. Memory, all alone in the moonlight. I can dream of the old days, life was beautiful then. I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5281 | 2019-09-11 20:27:57 | 89.43 | 98% |
| 4210 | 2018-03-26 19:23:38 | 98.06 | 99% |