Ambrosia

Rows and rows upon rows
of self proclaimed righteous counter clothes
beyond the bellows endless blowing.
Nothing known will ever interrupt a sacred show.
The line, uninterrupted as flies the crow.
Far before we chose what falls bellow
and what has been allowed to rise.
What has become of the true tough few?
What has been spent?
And for the egg shells we have strewn,
I fail to see the aforementioned omelet.