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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 573 | 2021-03-29 16:23:32 | 82.66 | 97% |
| 507 | 2021-03-12 14:33:14 | 78.55 | 97% |