Minds Eyes, is it the Voice?

Minds and eyes tempered of steel
Needs to be as the color'd skies ,
Others will always want more and will wish for the End
Reasons who might know

some do it for lust,
some do it for wanting
to snatch away another’s joy,
some others still,
                         will watch and wait,
                                                      like parasites ,
Then, the time ripe
will move in,
gliding on footfalls of unclad feet,
watching as they approach.
Still'd by a hand, no, that look
raised Eyes beholden.

Take them away; carcerate them slowly
then adjoin those halves again
   a makeshift job
Even Jobe could not

Be not what the moons say,
whispered songs of faraway and
far again
Together, the mountains
awash in red
will bathe in the Light

pristine waters flow, the juncture is
wettened,  cascades

His words, His voice,
                              flow like heavy lava
hot molten river over the senses,

claiming what He wants
will keep
Immured now as His.