John Martin, Belshazzar's Feast, c. 1820-1
Her house sinks down to death,
And her course leads to the shades.
All who go to her cannot return
And find again the paths of life.
Solomon, "On Lilith" from Proverbs 2:18–19, c. 940 BCE
nickkahler reblogged
When I bought my first copy of the Bible, the King James version, it was to the Old Testament that I was drawn, with its maniacal, punitive God who dealt out to His long-suffering humanity punishments that had me drop-jawed in disbelief at the very depth of their vengefulness. I had a burgeoning interest in violent literature, coupled with an unnamed sense of the divinity in things and, in my early twenties, the Old Testament spoke to that part of me that railed and hissed and spat at the world. I believed in God, but I also believed that God was malign and if the Old Testament was testament to anything, it was testament to that. Evil seemed to live close to the surface of existence within it, you could smell its mad breath, see the yellow smoke curl from its many pages, hear the blood-curdling moans of despair. It was a wonderful, terrible book, and it was sacred scripture.
Nick Cave, "On the Old Testament," c. 2000 (via spiritteeth)
A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.... A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon. Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.
Solomon, The Song of Songs, c. 930 BCE