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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1804 | 2020-11-22 23:43:42 | 89.73 | 99% |
| 937 | 2018-05-19 16:55:43 | 90.10 | 100% |