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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1817 | 2023-11-07 21:59:38 | 82.66 | 99.2% |
| 122 | 2023-10-20 00:55:23 | 84.44 | 99.6% |