Как вам poem (англ)?

The black wings of my legions flapping
To the applause of claws my demons clapping;
The back stabbing knifes were like dead eyes glimming
And machines called "queens" wake from bad dreams screaming
I have raised them on my cum, and why not? it's where they're from;
For all these kings and all these queens, are my children like the flapping things
That circle pie above their heads, and dance at the funeral held in their beds;
They're all a part of me. And if this mirror is my mind, why did none reflect the heart of me?
The princess watched the black things flutter,
Surprise in their eyes and the sad words they utter,
And the savage cunts are kept in a cage, to suck and fuck when my smiles feed their rage.
If these terrible things are all a part of me, is there only blackness in the heart of me?