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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1957 | 2020-12-19 07:20:59 | 60.47 | 95% |
| 1340 | 2020-11-30 15:02:12 | 59.78 | 96% |
| 366 | 2020-10-16 02:53:17 | 42.35 | 94% |