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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1761 | 2020-04-28 03:47:44 | 93.12 | 98% |
| 521 | 2020-04-17 04:33:10 | 76.76 | 95% |