Winner Takes History.

It was in the flash of a light,
in the blink of one eye,
in the crash of a thunderous wave,
by the shoreline’s firelight,
in the midst of the telling,
of a horribly painful lie,
with the ease of the sun’s,
rising once again, bright –
that I found myself wondering,
amidst the lows and the highs,
there I be: ever-questioning
and inquiring as to the solidity,
of the truth behind the truest things –
the tales of many kings and queens,
in rule over this primordial life,
who was wrong or right?
which was the winner,
of which meaningless fight?
a winner doesn’t choose,
who was wrong or right –
the winner tells the story,
of the loser that’s left behind,
and so – history is told,
letters – big and bold,
no matter, the accuracy involved,
just another perk for those,
left standing on their toes.