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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3991 | 2019-04-02 23:05:43 | 174.35 | 98% |
| 3247 | 2019-03-13 21:48:17 | 150.85 | 98% |