It.

Alone at the window
I await its arrival
I see it coming
It is almost here

It is the sacred
The one they worship
A shiny silver thing
That they pray to

It has no name
It has no pulse
It has no shape
Why do they worship It?

They say It has saved them
That It gives them light
It is their savior
This little peice of metal

Cold, Hard and Alone
It sits on its throne
It never will know
It has no life of its own

It kills the non believers
It sends It's worshipers to jail
It thinks It is so fragile and frail
Yet, this little thing is the strongest emotion in the world