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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 259 | 2021-02-17 07:09:14 | 91.80 | 96.6% |
| 16 | 2021-02-11 06:02:28 | 92.03 | 96.6% |