Buridan s ass

Between its kings and native tribes
The history of Britain lies.
While full of wars and glory days
(With William setting all ablaze
That he encountered on his way
To make the Englishmen obey)
And arts, all sovereign and unique
And not at all a doublespeak
Created by a mighty fusion
Upon the conquerors' infusion
It puts the learner right between
A rock and places hard; We lean
Towards the history of old
Of kings and knights so strong and bold
That battled Dane and  Sax alike
Whoever was around to strike.
And heroes of the table round
(Of which no mention has been found
In books that are of any proof
That Arthur wasn't just a spoof)
Who hunted dragons for the sake
Of ladies fair and awake
To chivalry's eternal charm
Which caused considerable alarm
To those who much preferred the lash
To fair swordfight's hack and slash
And coin ring to a battle cry
What one would die for they would buy.
However, in this epic mess
We have an issue to address:
The times in question are long gone
And murals on the walls were drawn
By victors and by those concerned
Not by the truth but money earned.
In trusting them we act the fools
Insofar as money rules
Trusting things from long ago
Is a poor way to go.
If we turn away from kings
And refer to other things
Those which happened in the time
After thinking was a crime
We encounter different trouble
Even in the depths of rubble
We are hard pressed to uncover
Something worthy of a bother
(Pardon for the lack of rhyme
This will be the only time).
Legends gone and epics lost
History is not as glossed
With enchanting effigy
As a sort of elegy
To the truly lovely ages
Printed out on heartless pages.
Fun and benefit so far
Seem to never be on par
History will make you choose
Either one will make you lose.