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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3785 | 2019-03-16 03:44:41 | 77.24 | 95% |
| 1187 | 2019-02-22 19:26:12 | 71.30 | 94% |