Dying Dot

Cast me asunder,
Permit evil to plunder
My rubble soul pieces,
Despite pleads and pleases.
That’s right — I call a lot.
Your silence is my distraught.
Though I believed you sought
Your breath-filled, beautiful lovelies.
My heart is alone as forsaken monasteries.

Am I as insignificant as a dying dot?
Or am I in a much too deep thought?