We, the Damned

by Wilds Forlorn

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about

Released as a free download on 1 January 2012.

The digital release was originally intended to be followed up by a CD release by Obscure Abhorrence Productions, which would include two bonus tracks, but that never saw the light of day.

credits

released January 1, 2012

Guitar solos on 'Traces' and 'This Too Shall Pass' by Freek
All other compositions and instruments, lyrics, vocals,
recording, producing and artwork by Yuri

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about

Wilds Forlorn Utrecht, Netherlands

Wilds Forlorn is an utterence of loss, grief, frustration, anger, and world-weariness. Founded in 2008, originally, the music consisted entirely of piano works, but the project eventually took a different turn. Wilds Forlorn can be seen as a solemn lamentation for the burden of existence in the modern world. ... more

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Track Name: Traces
Witness the fall of everything;
Watch the world burn and collapse;
See the veins cut and depleted;
Stand watch as everything is swept away.

What traces will we leave
When nothing but shadows is left?
Who will tell of this omnicide
When the cracks give way
And all is lost?

Look upon the desolation,
Warning of famine and sickness,
Writhing amidst smoking remains
As life itself begins to crumble.

What traces will we leave
When nothing but dust is left?
Who will tell of this ignominy
When the ruins collapse
And bury us with our shame?

The markings will fade
As the stars look away
From the marred earth
And time swallows us.

No traces left.
Nothing but dust.
No memories.
A silent equillibrium.
Track Name: Renouncing the World
As I willed my aching bones forward,
I realised that all my life,
I had been trying desperately
To reach a gaping void,
and now that I have reached it,
the great precipice of nothingness,
I don't know how to go back.
I am lost and tired.

The restless stomach,
Insatiable,
Hungers always,
It never settles.

The seething embers
Of wanting,
Burning desire,
Burst into flames.

A violent blaze is unleashed,
Raging fierce and proud.
A torrent of madness engulfs me;
Once more enthralled,
Carried away by empty longing
Without purpose or direction.

Everywhere lost;
Loathe this world.
The tide is rising;
Loathe this life.

Show me what it means to suffer,
To extinguish the flaming ember of hope.
Track Name: We, the Damned
Ours is a time in purgatory,
Torn from tranquillity
To suffer this affliction;
To rise and to fall
With only absence ahead,
Amounting to nothing.

Thus we endure,
Persist in delusion;
We, the damned;
Forced to wander these hollows
In search of hope,
In spite of hopelessness.

Ours is a moment of sentience,
Compelled to perceive
The fruitless strife,
The endless nothingness.
Here we stand,
On the path to tragedy.

Thus we languish,
Remain incarcerated;
We, the damned;
Banished to roam this hell
In search of comfort,
In spite of comfortlessness.
Track Name: This Too Shall Pass [bonus track]
Lidless eyes gaze into the beyond;
Empty, hollow, dead.
Mouth sewn shut; no tongue to speak;
Silenced, stifled, mute.

Nothing now will bear meaning
Unto sermons and gospels of "truth".

Trailing the horizon
On the path of no reprieve,
Amidst the thundering cacophony of silence,
These words alone are heard:
This too shall pass.
Track Name: Wilds Forlorn (revisited) [bonus track]
Forlorn, the wilds;
And severed are the bonds!
A culture of fear
Where chaos is shunned...

Forsaken, our roots;
And buried is the past!
A sterile world of order
Where beauty is obsolete...

The sky weeps, grieving for the loss;
The tears touching the concrete
As blood pours from every vein,
To feed the structure of desolace.
The grace is fading from this world;
Dried up, wilted and barren.





A promise of peace is a cruel torture for the diseased. The hope it inspires lights a toxic fire, belching forth a choking smoke that drowses the soul and blots out reality.
Are not we the sick ones precisely because we have abandoned hope? We saw through the lies and empty promises and resolved forthwith to dwell without hope, shedding it as though it were an affliction. Yet the frailty of our resolution is all too easily revealed when we hear that siren’s call beckoning, gently whispering promises of rest and tranquillity in our ear.
—No! We have once learned to mistrust naïve optimism and would do well to remember it. We, the despondent; we, the hopeless; we, Sisyphos,—is it not for us all the same whether we bear this cross only until dawn or for many years hence?
Now that all is finally lost, there is nothing left to say. Beyond this point, words lose their meaning, become insipid and banal. Thus now I depart from you in silence, to suffer for all of eternity with solemn equanimity.