Thoughts from a bus ride

On the bus ride home, these thoughts keep flooding into my head and thus, i had penned them down...

looking out at the blurry glass windows,
as the tiny raindrops fall onto the tarmac road like bees to honey,
a familiar sense of loneliness envelopes his heart,
as he finds himself in that usual void of emptiness,
and laughs sorrowly at his pathetic self,
a man as useless as a plumber facing a stove,
with no absolute idea how to move ahead,
or stay behind,
like a crippled tiger faced with two hunters on either side.

Closing his weary eyes,
a faint smile forms along his pale lifeless lips,
leaving it all to fate,
fate - the sign of betrayal,
and yet ironically,
as a friend or a foe,
he finds only fate standing before him,
to the heavens or hell,
he shall not choose nor seek out for,
but to just leave his hands to it,
and resign to its fateful plans.