Until the day of my return, from stone
Shall come the imprint of my clearest heel;
With it, a game of crimes, its ivies' foam,
Its olive tree and obdurate appeal.
Until the day of my return, proceeding
(As bitter cripples stand erect and true)
In my long quest from well to well, conceding
That man has to be good, no matter who.
Until the day of my return, when, lo!
Among my judges, I, the beast, shall step,
Our brave, deserving minimus shall grow –
The infinite among all digits' breadth.