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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 315 | 2021-01-06 16:02:15 | 50.47 | 95% |
| 11 | 2020-12-30 10:34:02 | 50.82 | 95% |