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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 505 | 2019-03-20 16:13:29 | 50.77 | 99% |
| 78 | 2019-02-07 00:44:52 | 49.83 | 99% |