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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1050 | 2019-02-15 02:43:48 | 114.77 | 98% |
| 927 | 2019-01-19 18:49:49 | 111.30 | 99% |