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 |
---|---|---|---|
365 | 2018-02-25 22:30:48 | 150.46 | 98% |
261 | 2018-02-13 04:44:11 | 139.92 | 98% |