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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6796 | 2021-06-27 15:53:50 | 84.17 | 96% |
| 1889 | 2020-12-12 18:42:18 | 70.45 | 96% |