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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6871 | 2019-12-19 20:15:55 | 180.42 | 99% |
| 3435 | 2017-10-08 22:38:37 | 149.32 | 99% |