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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6162 | 2018-04-04 03:26:35 | 74.91 | 96% |
| 3762 | 2018-03-05 23:28:33 | 55.48 | 96% |
| 3638 | 2018-03-01 01:26:03 | 61.49 | 96% |