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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 908 | 2021-01-20 22:30:27 | 65.16 | 93% |
| 821 | 2020-11-03 17:39:55 | 64.22 | 94% |