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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 13135 | 2024-03-25 02:18:42 | 76.90 | 99.2% |
| 6703 | 2017-09-20 03:52:15 | 65.73 | 98% |