The fall of God's all mighty prison.

The endless fear of guilt without reason.

Centuries of pain, countless souls in the net,

horrors of a scale , I wish to forget.

Yet, ashes to ashes, no eye for an eye.

No mighty has fallen. It's the end of the sly.

For true, God's love needs no proof.

The wealthy are poor in a house with no roof.

It is you and I under a bright dye.

We are the children of the sky.

With or without you, I am still your love.

I am a timeless scale, a flying dove.

Hope my dear could never leave,

whether or not you wish to believe.