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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 131 | 2018-08-17 02:46:45 | 97.51 | 98% |
| 108 | 2018-08-16 19:30:28 | 101.05 | 98% |