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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3038 | 2018-04-10 13:22:48 | 32.12 | 94% |
| 1595 | 2018-03-27 20:53:36 | 29.59 | 98% |