Saint Bens Poem by Howard Johnson

In flames, fire and sometimes cold
tormented restless souls
Demons most with exesive hair
oddly some have drooling
And yellow fangs.
The plague they bring
Darkens light within your goodness frame
They have done this for ever
Why all is known
Haunting mist And
Drooling spit
Oh soils stand where you stand
Severed bridge from here to there
scary voices shattering peace.
Loathsome hate
Release Hells gate