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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1935 | 2020-10-22 09:05:53 | 67.29 | 96% |
| 373 | 2020-07-22 08:36:30 | 48.15 | 94% |