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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1328 | 2020-11-15 04:00:11 | 56.72 | 95% |
| 851 | 2020-11-06 00:14:46 | 58.43 | 95% |