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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 669 | 2020-12-14 09:25:27 | 36.13 | 96% |
| 384 | 2020-11-17 08:32:25 | 32.11 | 95% |