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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1247 | 2018-07-18 05:48:08 | 57.81 | 95% |
| 1081 | 2018-05-29 10:04:46 | 55.59 | 94% |