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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 784 | 2021-07-17 10:40:11 | 85.25 | 97% |
| 547 | 2021-03-03 09:45:25 | 78.85 | 98% |