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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1115 | 2022-02-20 14:59:03 | 61.28 | 93% |
| 1108 | 2022-02-18 16:58:30 | 45.66 | 93% |