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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 214 | 2025-06-02 16:50:25 | 83.28 | 96% |
| 138 | 2025-05-27 17:13:47 | 90.66 | 96.6% |