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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1645 | 2021-02-03 10:23:33 | 59.11 | 96.3% |
| 852 | 2020-04-06 05:32:39 | 53.78 | 95% |