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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1263 | 2019-11-24 16:05:33 | 71.96 | 96% |
| 1231 | 2019-11-23 09:46:25 | 77.28 | 98% |