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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 928 | 2025-06-15 07:53:38 | 165.10 | 99% |
| 827 | 2025-06-12 06:10:50 | 136.47 | 97% |