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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 932 | 2020-03-27 21:13:49 | 61.07 | 97% |
| 292 | 2020-01-19 23:05:36 | 43.10 | 95% |