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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1122 | 2019-11-12 08:33:24 | 66.06 | 96% |
| 115 | 2019-02-19 23:53:35 | 34.25 | 91% |