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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 17623 | 2018-08-13 09:16:23 | 114.97 | 99% |
| 16487 | 2018-07-10 22:43:48 | 94.73 | 97% |