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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10267 | 2018-11-08 01:53:05 | 103.05 | 99% |
| 9529 | 2018-10-11 03:24:45 | 88.67 | 97% |