In an overemphasised humanistic, naturalistic and scientific worldview, the designs and patterns of the world are curtailed by wishful thinking. By designs I mean the roller-coaster of chasing money; and by patterns, I mean the search for purpose or purposelessness (nihilism) in life and death via routes of materialism. In search of these things we forget that time has had a back-room handshake with money and death, so to co-opt the resilience of Man to live life and live it abundantly. Time in its essence is an unknown, known. In the worldview described above, we know not of its origin, its mediator, nor of its nature. We know not of its ability to transcend, extend and virtually transform. All we do know is what it has allowed us to know; life and death. Hence, the known is by virtue of its generosity towards Man, and his creatural compatriots. Thus, it is fair to conclude that Man’s greatest enemy is Time.

Awake O sleeping sojourner, awake to the dawn

Can you not see that light has shone?

It has thrived through the deepest of deeps to enlighten your eye

Now arise from slumber and work

Tick tock, tick tock, time is of the essence

It waits for no man, nor does it aspire to wait

As it sits on the souls of men like a thousand tonnes;

Not even crates of fate can impede its subtle wrongs

Awake O sleeping sojourner, awake to the dawn

By sundown I expect your labour to be of worth

Remember, death is upon you; work you filthy serf

By design, the empires where formed by expectation. The haves gathered to organise the have nots. One goal was intended, to make Man the supreme creator of all things. Motion by motion, toil upon toil, the earth slowly began to feel the birth pangs of its corrupted custodians. Minerals were dug, trees uprooted, and winds contorted by fumes of greed. Expectation drove the culture. That is, the art of predicting the future before Time had the ability to show us its merciless mercy. You see, Man was tired of knowing the known; that the temporality of life is nothing more than death. Man wanted to excel past the known, past the empty virtuous generosity, beyond the fear of death. For the cessation of consciousness was more damning than the partaking of it in the first place. And the medium of achieving this feat was exercised through the power of Money.

Money in itself is not powerful, it is weak, malleable, fungible, and most of all non-existent. Yet it quickly rose to become the means of communication (trade) between Man and his fellow creatural compatriots. The realms of life were exchanged through this one medium. The Haves of course paved the rules for the games of exchange, whilst the Have Nots perpetuated the trust for money. However, none knew that Time – again by virtue, was behind the creation of money.

Sleep O burdened sojourner, sleep to strengthen your feeble knees

Dream of your expectations, for the morrow is in the breeze

Pant and plan for your hard work

Let not neighbouring compatriots surpass you

For living dogs are better than dead lions

Tick tock, tick tock, time is of the essence

It yearns to mould your past, present and future

Like a hurrying yawn it steals the strength of the youth

Like a thick running volcano, it intensifies the regrets of the old

Sleep O burdened sojourner, sleep to strengthen your feeble knees

By dawn I expect your restlessness to be of worth

Remember, death is upon you; work you filthy serf

There are two prepositions one must make about the temporality of life, that, charm is deceitful, and beauty is fleeting. The temporality of life exhibits these two because death is deceitful, and time is fleeting – yet the bedrock of their existence or may one say their relevance is money. Money is the only entity that pours both charm and beauty into sin, and like its originator, the wages it eventually pays is death. Sadly, the sorrows of Man are only realised when its Master comes to collect the debt owed.

It reached a time wherein there were ten empires. Each wore a crown of gold, each with its own group of merchants. They bowed and worshipped a woman sitting on a beast also with ten horns. Each horn representing the spiritual principality behind each earthly empire. In her right hand was a golden cup and inscribed on it was the phrase “That Great City”. Within the cup swirled the blood of righteous haves and have nots who had been torn apart by the beast for not partaking in the building of “That Great City”. Mighty were its walls, trustworthy were its kings and queens, and innovative were its merchants. Yet deceit and charm were the foundation of its sorcery. You see, they promised an elixir of life through a mixture of Prometheanism and Cornucopianism. The former being innovation via human intellect and brilliance, and the latter via technological advancements. Charm and deceit. Charm because Man was magnificently fit to be the centre and supreme ruler of the universe. His justice and provision could and would reach all realms and fabrics of reality – whether in this generation or the generations to come. Hence, innovation and progressive ideas were the secret antidotes to achieve and establish the civility of Man’s glory. Deceit because Man was without sin. In the grandeur scheme of things, though Man and their creatural compatriots are simultaneously receiving and inflicting suffering, with time, there will be enough enlightened minds to quantify the secret to well-being. Hence, Humanism and Naturalism were its rational tools to implement this sacred duty – the duty to establish the “righteousness” of Man, and moreover, evolve from current primitive modes of being.

Awake O sojourner, awake to the cries of damned souls

You’ve allowed moths to eat and now your treasures are moulds

For “That Great City” in which you trusted, in which you helped build its walls has fallen

The merchants are in shock, the clerks are in dismay

Wail O kings, and wail O queens

For your stocks are no longer worth a dime

You’ve all been fooled by the beauty of time

It is not yours and never will it be yours

Like a borrower being a slave to the lender so are you

Like a Man gasping for its last breath so will you be

Awake O sojourner, awake to the cries of damned souls

By and by I expect you to understand

But remember, those who think they have me flirt with death

In conclusion, the designs and patterns of this world are curtailed by wishful thinking. Nothing cannot produce something. And when that something declares he or she knows what nothing is, look them in the eyes and run. Run from their hopeless hope. Run from their marketplaces and their non-sensical ideologies. Behind every magic is a magician, and if you are not careful, like pied piper they will play you into everlasting damnation. I speak to both the haves and have nots. The righteous and the wicked – time is not on your side nor is it your friend. In liaison with money it looks to hand you over to its companion – death. Temporality of life is a pain in the ass, but one must realise temporality eventually paves way to eternity. A living dog maybe better than a dead lion, but the Lion of Judah was, is, and will always be the Lion of Judah. The funny thing is Jesus has power and authority over all three – time, money and death. Hence why He is the express definition of Life. In Him we live, move, and have our being. Come out of “That Great City” to the city built without hands. Wherein we are surrounded by an enumerable company of angels, where the souls of just men are made perfect. Faith is rational, it has evidence, and it is steeped in substance. All three point to Jesus the Christ, the Son of the Living God.