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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 777 | 2021-10-25 18:49:18 | 90.25 | 96% |
| 134 | 2018-03-05 10:44:29 | 62.58 | 92% |