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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 609 | 2025-02-12 22:43:06 | 116.34 | 98.8% |
| 545 | 2024-12-15 17:18:09 | 123.18 | 98.8% |