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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4927 | 2025-05-08 18:57:06 | 137.00 | 95.8% |
| 4671 | 2025-04-29 13:30:29 | 185.93 | 99.6% |
| 2186 | 2024-05-15 19:34:37 | 136.31 | 96.8% |