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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5534 | 2024-03-08 19:56:02 | 75.65 | 93.8% |
| 2214 | 2018-02-25 11:57:29 | 64.38 | 94% |