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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1968 | 2022-11-06 03:18:49 | 97.18 | 96% |
| 629 | 2022-07-09 19:46:13 | 91.86 | 97% |