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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5349 | 2019-10-06 23:09:11 | 74.76 | 95% |
| 3610 | 2018-03-09 21:29:19 | 59.32 | 94% |