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 |
---|---|---|---|
1219 | 2020-02-16 01:07:25 | 65.85 | 97% |