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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 416 | 2021-02-18 19:31:13 | 77.17 | 94.4% |
| 372 | 2021-02-10 10:51:03 | 84.12 | 97% |