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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 22903 | 2017-10-20 08:25:58 | 83.22 | 98% |
| 21142 | 2017-10-04 06:16:15 | 75.06 | 98% |