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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2808 | 2017-09-11 12:01:36 | 67.63 | 98% |
| 2730 | 2017-09-05 09:24:23 | 58.55 | 97% |