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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1414 | 2017-10-09 08:35:25 | 122.86 | 98% |
| 862 | 2017-09-18 02:47:31 | 125.11 | 100% |