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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 547 | 2021-05-14 17:12:50 | 68.09 | 94% |
| 174 | 2021-03-30 00:48:49 | 70.16 | 96% |