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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 566 | 2020-02-07 08:29:02 | 143.09 | 100% |
| 209 | 2019-09-16 20:23:01 | 124.72 | 100% |