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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 17841 | 2024-03-24 16:59:43 | 113.74 | 98.8% |
| 8935 | 2017-11-11 03:55:55 | 110.66 | 98% |