Torched Sea

She sits across, arms folded
as reserved guards on a quiet night.
The warm yellow candle lights bathe her
                in enduring sunset.
She offers time as a glass;
conversation pours and fills it.
Dinner displays itself,
prayers offered, an incense climbing
to God's throne.
            Alone in a sea of revelers,
they wonder what the future offers
in a dying world, a twisted kingdom.
She deplores the manners lost to
lust, like raving wolves, and garish self-interest.
"We are the makers of manners",
                      replies he in dreadful earnest,
steely, warm eyes hardened with resolve.
They smile as night burns auburn.
They smile, though torches crackle,
holding the heavy weight
           of encroaching darkness,
clawed by unkind eyes that despise
          pure light and just minds.
             A moment in time,
the faithful couple step out
on cobbled walks
and the buzz of evening markets.
A sea of torches, staves, and rusted blades
are seen afar off.
             They take this for a sign.
Seeking to disappear into the night,
she rushes past stalls and dim stores.
He speaks to her in hushes
         and tight whispers.
Alleyways erupt in titters of laughter,
oblivious to the fear
that begins to engulf them.
Steel drags on uneven stone,
                          the groans roar
                     as the torched sea oozes
into the street byways.
The town's edge, not far,
seemingly stretches to eternity.
Legs burn, heat touches their backs -
the sea is just upon them.
               It is a deafening flame,
of obscenities and curses exclaimed
upon the young couple -
              fear is palpable darkness before them
and unfamiliar fire just behind.
A sign, like an unerring watchman,
is distantly seen - their eyes are drawn to it,
sheep after a shepherd.
The torched sea's unseemly
            light blinds him,
the foaming tiger's roar
        begins to deafen her.
Both run past the sign,
the world a sudden hush
               of chirping trees
and familiar winds.
They do not stop
until the town's light
fades, the dying life
of a vengeful demon,
its eyes sputtering to dark coals.
                  They rest, arms folded -
him, a silent guard in the night;
       her, a warm candle light.
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First time doing something like this.

Let me know what you think.

Cheers!