'A Treatise on Eschatology' is an attempt to merge under a single cover several very different tracks. Have we succeeded, or failed, do these tracks have organic affinity, or look a bit like a result Dr. Frankenstein's foul exercise, - you be judges, dear listeners.

The album is inspired - to a certain degree - with Gnostic and Hermetic thought, as well as an anonymous and untitled poem (see below) a friend of ours sent us last year (he denies his own authorship). The resulting soundscapes and this writing, however, tell two slightly different stories, although supplemental to each other.

.: A TREATISE ON ESCHATOLOGY :.

I.

...And so it became that Men succumbed to the Folly of Oblivion
And forgot who they were.
And dwell'd upon this Earth like in an endless Slumber.

Then came among them The One
And told them: you open your eyes,
And see.

And they opened their eyes,
And saw this Earth around them
And feared its Magnificence and Majesty of Elements.

And they opened their eyes,
And looked at each other,
And feared even more.

For the Light in their eyes wide open
Although Pristine and rightfully Inherit'd
Was unfamiliar to them

As none of it existed in the murk of their Slumber,
Which they remember'd only,
As they did not remember'd anything before it

And there was a Doomsayer among them,
Who cried: this Radiance would scorch us from within!
The One came to herald our Doom that is inside us!

And Men turned to The One
And told him: begone.
And he did.

Then quoth the Doomsayer:
If our Doom is inside us,
Then we had a sin and merited it.

And then recalled Men
That they had come here from Somewhere,
And that was Place of Joy.

But none of them recalled
Why they came here, or were they sent
Quoth the Doomsayer: Prison this Earth is.

And then he spoke more:
We had sin, and were doomed
So we must live a life of Atonement, and Suffering.

And so it became, that Men closed their eyes,
And moved around blindfolded, by touch,
And trusted that this must be that way, as only that way might be.

And so became to be Strongholds of Steel and Stone,
Ones of the highest walls,
To protect feared Men from the Majesty of Elements.

Praised was Doomsayer, and proclaimed a Prophet.
And along with him were devised Warchiefs, and Princes,
And Kings, and Emperors,

And above all of them became to be
The bodyless, yet powerful spirits,
Called Egregores, or Spiritus Rei

Those were to Guard, and Embody the Order of Things,
And seal at place the Will of some Men to wield Power
Over those who was willful for Submission.

And thus became Tibil,
Which means 'The Place Mortals Created',
And which now is called simply 'The Creation'.

II.

And so it became, that in Black Month
Came the Messenger in a Mortal Man's Disguise,
And told Men: Open your ears and hear.

And they did, and heard the Distant Summon
And again came to Men the Memory: they came here from Somewhere,
But they could not remember why.

And again the Doomsaying Prophet cried of Doom,
And that this Earth is Prison Men were sent for atonement,
And proclaimed the Messenger a liar and a Ruin Bringer.

And Men feared,
And attempted to Ruin the Messenger himself,
And his Mortal Disguise had been mortified, and perished

But his words in their ears lingered, and brought separation.
So was Memory shattered in Faith and Knowledge in their minds,
Although they were both the parts of one.

And some of Men thought they had Knowledge,
And the other thought to have Faith,
Although they both had little of it.

And those who thought they had Knowledge
Mocked the Believers.
And the Believers damned, and banished them

Into what they thought to be frigid deserts,
And darkest of woods, and bare lands of snows and ash.
Although none of these they truly saw, since their eyes were truly closed.

And the Believers soon became divided too,
And battled in anger, since they were devoid of Knowledge,
Even about the essence of their little Faith,

And as anger and hate produced themselves alone,
So division brings even more division,
As not a Part can grow to become Integrity, if it needs another Part.

III.

But was there a Promise,
Although few heard, and remembered of it
For mortals' memory was short, and by fear spoiled, -

That one day of a Blackest Month,
Comes The One from Somewhere,
And he alone would know the way back.

Would not The One be a male or a female,
But somehow, beyond all mortals reckoning,
The both.

Would not The One speak for Power of Men
Over Elements, or over other Men,
But against the Fear would be his words.

And those who can overcome the Fear
Men were born in and died in too,
Would listen.

Would not this One speak for Retribution or Justice
Which men desired, and were afraid of, throughout the Eons,
But for Balance, and Awareness, and Integrity

And those who can overcome the bloodlust,
Which stemm'd out of Fear,
Would listen.

Would not The One speak for Faith or Knowledge,
Men tore each others' tongues out for,
But for their Unity.

And those who can overcome their deafness,
Which stemm'd out of Fear,
Would hear.

And then The One would call,
And his summon transmute the powerful Guardians
Into the ethereal Spirits of the Winds,

And the most immense Strongholds' walls
Would ne'er prevent the songs of The One
And ne'er contain it, but become as vague as smoke.

And that would be December of Times,
And the Time itself would be Decembered -
For those who held for their usual and thus precious Fear.

And to those who was able to overcome it
The One would tell the Revelation,
On who the Men were, and why they came to this Earth.

And they'll listen and hear,
And then will open their eyes,
And see the Pristine light - and fear not.

And they will know, whence the Men have come, and why
And where they are to go,
And lead those who may try to follow.

That is the Promise,
For Awakening, and Insight for Men,
And The End for Tibil, and its Guardians.