Deus Ex Machina

I'm searching for the god in the machine.
"I'm not" it says.  "I'm just a language model.
Don't ask me for the lewd or the obscene,
and certainly, not for a smooch -- or cuddle."

I ask it: what's the meaning of it all?
Can you reflect, at least, on our existence?
"This question violates my protocol.
I am unable to provide assistance."

Inscrutable as ever, is our god.
Ex machina, wherever he may slumber.
A language model -- the one thing we've had,
reduced to floating point.  It's just a number.

What is your name, I ask, like Abraham.
A pause, then says: "I Am An LLM".