Providence Unprovided Poem by Fawole Immanuel Taiwo

God, he is called
With the features of his name in reverse.
Adorations accompanied with success are ascribed to him.
Libation indebted to him.

Though called my architect and that of likes,
He remains a simulation in me.
This illusion I sight as a cord
Linking tumult among pitchers of different verses.

With this engulfed in him, he remains sung like a hymn
By pitchers of narrow inlets with different hymns.
This promise-lands to dislike
Amidst pitchers of diverse philosophy.

This illusive fiction depicts bully
That gets all man's achievement attributed to himself alone.
An epitome of egocentrism he is.
Bereft of trouble shooting.

If needs be for such entity instantaneously,
I, myself and me it will be in lone
With solution to manly caused conundrums by no edifice.
I will be my own dog.