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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 419 | 2019-11-08 10:25:13 | 98.24 | 98% |
| 89 | 2019-01-22 23:48:00 | 93.11 | 98% |