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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 659 | 2020-07-15 06:34:19 | 97.01 | 98% |
| 255 | 2018-03-26 09:05:37 | 57.00 | 94% |