For reasons that I cannot explain, I heard St Peter call my name, Lowering my guard, his reasons inferred, His spoken word was hardly heard. In ways I couldn't fathom, the angel beckoned, If I let down my guard for a few more seconds, His words, soft yet piercing, bore truth's weight, For a fleeting moment, his wisdom found its place. For a heartbeat, I held the key, But a twist of fate took him away from me, A storm howled with reckless might, Banishing St Peter's presence in the night. Despite it all, with quiet doubt, I wonder what St Peter's called about.
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Hoping 2024 is kind to you. Happy New Year. Keep on writing ✍️