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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 82 | 2020-09-04 03:39:41 | 47.31 | 94% |
| 16 | 2020-09-03 05:11:31 | 49.71 | 95% |