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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 18538 | 2019-04-03 08:22:57 | 84.47 | 97% |
| 17848 | 2018-01-12 02:18:22 | 72.81 | 95% |