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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1410 | 2019-07-19 11:41:27 | 63.26 | 96% |
| 603 | 2018-05-05 17:21:58 | 57.81 | 94% |