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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2613 | 2019-10-20 10:03:56 | 64.27 | 98% |
| 1394 | 2019-09-13 13:32:10 | 57.11 | 98% |
| 1185 | 2018-04-03 20:43:51 | 47.16 | 98% |