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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 20172 | 2018-07-20 11:54:46 | 101.78 | 98% |
| 19633 | 2018-06-20 10:18:31 | 92.33 | 97% |