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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1439 | 2019-05-01 11:40:06 | 84.91 | 98% |
| 856 | 2018-03-31 08:47:13 | 61.51 | 97% |