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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 524 | 2021-02-15 02:15:28 | 85.66 | 96.1% |
| 304 | 2021-02-11 01:47:12 | 86.45 | 96.7% |