Sacrament by Cycle
S†N† Noc†urnusSTNT Nocturnus
Текст: 2025, Dan Loveschmidt
От албума "Blasphemy 6:66"
(intro — spoken) Let us begin in blood not blessed. (introit) She enters veiled in crimson flow, No linen white, no grace bestowed. The altar waits, the silence swells, The womb has come where sermon dwells. (kyria) Kyria, have mercy. Kyria, have mercy. On flesh declared unclean, On blood they've never seen. Kyria, have mercy. Kyria, let her speak. (confiteor) I have not sinned but I have bled, Each month a gospel they have fled. I claim no fault, I wear no shame, My blood flows free, and speaks my name. I have not fallen. I begin. The cycle turns. I bleed within. (gloria) Glory to the bitter flood, To iron truth and sacred mud. Glory to the pulse below, Where men won’t look, but all life grows. Glory be to crimson rites, To hidden days and sleepless nights. Glory to blood that came uncalled, Unblessed, unbroken—and yet enthroned. (sanctus) Holy, holy, holy womb, Heaven and Earth prepare her room. Sancta matrix, sancta blood, Blessed be the monthly flood. Hosanna in the pulsing flesh, Blessed is she who bleeds afresh. (consecration) This is not symbol. This is not sign. No wafer, no wine—this blood is mine. It comes unasked. It comes unblessed. It flows where none would dare to rest. No bell shall ring to mark this hour. No man shall speak her bleeding power. The veil is torn. The cloth runs red. The blood is hers. The altar fed where her vagina bled. (communion) Take this, not for hunger, not for grace. Take this to see what dares defile this place. Do not drink. Just look. Just know: This is the blood they fear to show. No sweetness here. No saving taste. Just bitter truth they tried to waste. This is the cup no priest will raise. This is her cycle. This is her praise. (dismissal) Go, and bleed in peace. For this blood does not kill. It prepares. It cleanses. It waits. It is not the end. It is the gate. There is no shame in what was shed. No sin in what the body said. Go, and carry what was read— In every womb, the sacred bled. (heavy metal interlude) No gospel speaks the blood she brings. No priest has touched her holy things. She does not kneel. She does not bow. She bleeds—unbidden, here, and now. (outro) They spat the bitter blood / and called it curse. She bled the truth they could not drink. (narrate) Daughter: Oh My God! Mother: This was fun!
The philosophy is simple: real flesh over “holy” spirit. No divine abstraction, no sacred illusion—just blood, muscle, rhythm, and will. “Blasphemy 6:66” is an album that tears down sanctified myth in favor of what breathes, bleeds, and births.
This is no metaphor. “Sacrament by Cycle” desecrates the altar not with rage, but with reality—replacing Christ’s wine with menstrual blood, and the priest’s word with a woman’s pulse. Structured as a reversed Catholic liturgy—a form long known in satanic rites and demonic tongues—the track inverts every sacred gesture, speaking the forbidden in the Church’s own cadence. Each movement—introit, kyria, confiteor, sanctus, consecration, communion, dismissal—returns not to grace, but to the womb.
But beneath the ritual mockery lies the core doctrine of “Blasphemy 6:66”: the body is not unclean, and woman is not a vessel. Her blood is not sin. It is cycle. It is power. It is presence. And above all—it is the gate to giving life. This track crowns the album’s arc of feminine uprising with open defiance—not begging for space, but taking the altar itself, unblessed and uninvited.
LaVey wrote: “The Church thrives on fear and guilt.” This song offers neither. There is no apology here—only exposure. The sacred is not symbolic. It flows monthly, unwilled and unhidden, from a real woman of flesh and voice. And when the rite ends, she laughs. So does her daughter. They step out of myth, smiling—not to explain, but to exist, fully and joyfully accepting their mortal feminine attributes.