When it arrived
No man can say.
It may have been here
Since the beginning,
Waiting to be discovered.

Now it sits, studied,
Watched by the world.
Black and reflective,
With the occasional ripple
Running across the surface.

It's purpose is unclear.
For all it does,
All it has ever done,
Is float there.
Slowly spinning on its axis.

Smooth to the touch,
Not warm, not cold.
Its atomic and chemical
Structures are unidentified.
The cube is a mystery.

Sirens wail,
Klaxons flash in warning.
We watch with bated breath.
What does it mean?
A fragment lies on the floor.