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 |
---|---|---|---|
64012 | 2018-02-06 11:40:08 | 144.88 | 97% |
61384 | 2018-01-22 15:57:18 | 154.86 | 99% |