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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3083 | 2018-11-21 14:26:45 | 61.62 | 99% |
| 2599 | 2018-06-09 14:47:55 | 71.18 | 100% |