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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7774 | 2025-04-13 05:28:18 | 88.82 | 96.3% |
| 3835 | 2025-02-06 12:48:12 | 96.25 | 97.3% |