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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4798 | 2019-08-08 10:10:03 | 93.08 | 98% |
| 1298 | 2019-01-28 06:22:09 | 60.65 | 98% |