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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1442 | 2020-12-03 17:45:59 | 58.41 | 94% |
| 151 | 2020-10-09 08:36:43 | 59.62 | 96% |