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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 722 | 2022-03-21 21:53:12 | 81.87 | 97% |
| 542 | 2022-03-16 03:44:03 | 77.13 | 96% |