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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 984 | 2019-01-16 06:20:48 | 121.39 | 99% |
| 767 | 2018-11-30 08:21:08 | 135.29 | 98% |