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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6859 | 2025-07-11 20:10:18 | 97.31 | 97% |
| 6442 | 2025-06-10 02:47:55 | 87.08 | 96% |
| 1789 | 2024-11-09 17:39:12 | 79.96 | 95.6% |