Black

I was very curious about the Black.

There was much too much unknown

for one to move on and not look back

Too distant to yet decipher, there is a tone.

I Intentionally walk toward the beautiful color;

I thought it was a combination of all of the shades

as I drew nearer, the surroundings became smaller

Surrounding life, the vitality of the nature, fades.

I'm drawn to mystery in not knowing if eyes are open

I feel engulfed. Colors balance and work together.

Black is composed, it is all the richest colors woven,

all working in harmony, as birds of a feather.

The Black stops me, for I've gone off track.

Although it does seem as though it is a compilation,

it is in fact what exists when other colors stay back.

My impression of Black as a treasury gets a mutation.

Black is seen only when there is nothing else to see

I thought that Black was everything, all colors at one time

but that is not so. I didn't consider what else could be,

What Black considers itself, an inconspicuous secret rhyme.

But this difference in opinion makes me angry!

Black presented itself as a combination of all the right colors

so that it should say it is anything different would be absurd!

Black identifies as what is in an absence of color

Then, should black fail to exist, as it is defined by what it lacks?

What it is not should not define what it is, yet that is its choice.

Black has made itself a big part of my life.

If I cut it off because of conflicting emotions, we would both bleed.

As that seems to be an awful option, one other option remains;

Continue with the black, knowing it is a void.

Author's Note

Constructive criticism is appreciated :)
It's not finished.
I want to expand on the miscommunication of the Black's identity and on how it could seem like the Black tricked the narrator or the narrator saw the Black incorrectly, but really it was neither of their faults.
The rhyming stops to represent a turn for the narrator of not being able to think as clearly. Later, when the narrator transitions from talking about their confusion to talking about perspective and how neither they, nor the Black is at fault, the rhyming will resume.