Fusion after dark

The beaming sun can’t light his face
nor bring colour to his skin.
His sooty steps, they mimic mine
but his aren’t weighted down with sin.

The steps I take are loud and hard,
but his are light and silent.
When darkness falls, he drowns within;
dissolves within the quiet.

Now he and I are one-and-the-same;
fused by the perfect dark.
But, like a knife, the morning sun
will slice us both apart.

Together we’ll walk, forever more,
till darkness settles in;
the beaming sun can’t light his face
nor bring colour to his skin.

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