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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4254 | 2019-06-06 12:22:32 | 52.08 | 96% |
| 2891 | 2017-11-14 08:06:40 | 40.39 | 96% |