O Cenotaph of the nameless dea, keeper of silence, stone, and memory, hear me beaneath the weight of old souls.

I do not come to banish the ghosts, nor to drive them into darkness. I come with open hands and a quiet heart, asking only to walk beside them in peace.

Let the restless know I know no harm. Let the forgotten feel remembered. If sorrow lingers here, teach me to carry it gently. If anger remains, let it fade like rain upon weathered stone.

May the dead keep their stories, and may I keep my respect.

Let there be no fear between us…only understanding beneath the same moon, beneath the same ancient sky.

To the spirits who wander these halls of memory: I will not mock your names. I will not trespass with crulty in my heart. I ask only for calm steps,

quiet night, and the wisdom to know when to listen.

Cenotaph, guardian of echoes, grant that the living and the dead may share this sacred silence without hatred. Let my presence be like a candle, not a fire; a small warmth in the dark, and never a wound upon it.

So may the veil remain gentle. So may the spirits rest when they can. And so may I walk among the memory without becoming lost within it.