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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 379 | 2019-05-28 10:05:31 | 57.37 | 94% |
| 65 | 2018-10-30 04:39:11 | 58.57 | 96% |