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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1525 | 2018-11-17 12:35:59 | 61.80 | 98% |
| 471 | 2017-12-12 14:19:24 | 45.90 | 96% |