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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 570 | 2020-07-26 00:31:33 | 85.15 | 97% |
| 566 | 2020-07-25 23:44:16 | 81.22 | 97% |