Synthwave and the Ascendency of Yukio Mishima

And Islands of decency now contract
The forces pull, the poles attract
Heaving up wave upon wave of sea
Land of the brave, grave of the free;
And sea and blood is not any way blood
Splash away at the rising flood
Art that lasts as long as a sound
Art of the lost; not art of the found
Noise growing, an immaculate roar
A beautiful dragon, a wolf at the door
Set them in lines, set them in rows
He need only sidestep as he goes
And the prison which had been their doom
Became, strange-like, also a womb
Public internment to learn all the day
Teach them to abhor the narrow way
They glow like neon, the flash of their eyes
Will each see the light as he dies--
The noise of their being become a song?
A rising lead, a right from a wrong
"The right to kill", the artist's conceit
Eateth no fat; desireth but meat
The pulse of the beat goes thud, thud thud
Finish the canvas with a splash of blood!

- E Antony Gray.

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