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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7239 | 2025-03-31 15:59:08 | 77.89 | 97% |
| 5299 | 2024-12-27 12:12:33 | 82.65 | 97.2% |