Poem for a Black October - The prisoner is the night.

Nobody knows the night inside out
than the veteran of martyr:
One step forward, two steps back.
16 years to see an elephant,
or to read the thinking of
the blind blind men.

In a blacked-out campus,
young eyes looked up to the moonlit window.
Nobody knows the light inside out
than these angry eyes:
The accused is innocent.
The prisoner is the night.