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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1633 | 2019-01-08 22:09:23 | 74.10 | 96% |
| 1201 | 2018-12-27 03:41:20 | 80.68 | 95% |
| 548 | 2018-12-09 11:52:14 | 72.48 | 96% |