Indica

And on tides we can't be untouched by
Of troubles stay when lids lay over eyes
The frames and faces I've mistaken
For kids whose lives I may have taken
And if so, do I haunt their parents' dreams?
of young lung screams?
Their young one's screams
And of war bonds and blood stained hands
Combat neurosis shys from indica strands
And it breaks my mother's heart
to know I came back broken
With the thought of my arms spilt open
And if so, would I bring their parents' peace?
And if so, could I give back the sounds
of their children's screams?
Let go of what I've seen
And if so, do I haunt their parents' dreams?
And in so, am I summarized by sounds
of young lung screams?
Their young one's screams