To The Victor Go The Spoils

In every war that has been
The victor has told the story
Defiling opponents’ names
Enhancing his own glory

It is inevitable, I suppose
That when such tales are told
Lies creep in to the narrative
And falsities manifold

And so when down the generations
These legends on are passed
The lies too, do accumulate
And a huge farce is amassed

……………………………………………………………………………

Which story has been told
To every child that is born
Ere slumber each night
And first thing again in the morn?

Which is the oldest fable
That man has ever weaved
And with the ancient legend
Many generations deceived?

It is that of religion, it is that of God
It is the question of how we came to be
How can I believe that this tale alone
Through all the eons has come unchanged to me?

What if this tale too
Like all others before
Was written by the victor
And inconsistencies bore?

Do we live by his rules
On the off chance he was right
Or do we set our minds free
To let it roam where it might?

I know not the answer
And ’til this answer be found
To a life of blind faith
I, at least, shan’t be bound

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