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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2392 | 2020-03-04 17:53:22 | 81.82 | 96% |
| 2195 | 2020-02-14 19:38:13 | 83.90 | 96% |