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 |
---|---|---|---|
3871 | 2018-02-03 10:51:55 | 70.84 | 97% |