Magical Being

Can you cut these strings, oh magical being.
Can you free me from me, and not let me see,
The horror masquerading as such delicacies.
I know, oh, that it’s so wrong of me to believe what they say,
But I can't help it my hands just give way
To that beautiful silver.
Maybe the lies I tell myself, maybe they're real
Maybe they help, help me feel.
Because you magical being as far as I can see,
You are not real, you don’t know me.
And the voices I hear, the voices I feel,
They're substantial, and real.
And magical being, so may believe in you,
But what you say is that what my voices say isn’t true.
But, what if all the others, what if they're wrong?
And that you aren’t true and then perhaps I should go along,
With the voices, those voices that speak the truth!
Because they tell me I'm able to cut these strings, that I can hurt,
And to believe in them I don’t have to live by their word,
And they say I'm allowed to bleed,
That everything I do doesn’t have to be off of what I read
Because magical being you say that’s wrong,
But, then how? Can those of us who hurt believe in you, god?
And aren’t you just a figment too? And some one who hates those unlike you?
Because the voices, the voices they care.
And they like the broken, the different. And that’s who I am,
And you think I'm wrong, that I'm dammned.
So really, oh really, magical being, you think that I can change,
Turn towards the truth.
But, oh, can I really do that if the lies are as true… as you?