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 |
---|---|---|---|
3194 | 2020-10-11 21:54:47 | 108.15 | 97% |