Everybody Needs a Sanctuary

My sanctuaries are all gone.
They have been looted and pillaged,
Burned and broken,
Invaded by the uncouth, the filthy,
The senseless horde.

One by one, I have watched
As they were taken from me.
Now I linger in the rubble
Of what was once, to me, sacred,
Defiled now by those without compassion,
Without love or mercy.

Yet I am at peace.
My sanctuary awaits me.
Mine is the future
And even now, I am laying the bricks;
I am scraping the mortar
Of what shall be.

This, no one can destroy.
What I build this time is destiny itself.
It is the power of resolve, the invincibility of an idea,
And when it is complete, my enemies--
Those who would call themselves my friends--
Shall beat their impotent fists upon its walls
And curse me with every foul breath they can muster.

Yet I shall abide, at last, unencumbered:
Free from their wanton destruction;
Free from their beligerent disregard of truth;
Free from their meddling malice disguised as concern;
Free from their leeching of my every precious resource;
Free from their unconsciousness;
Free from their shackles of uniformity that strive to chain me down.