Lying in the choir of the cathedral, this lower portion of a tapering graveslab measures just over a metre in length and tapers from roughly 57 centimetres at the top to 51 at the base. It is worn to a degree that makes even basic observation difficult. The only decoration still legible, if that word can even be applied here, is the faint trace of two parallel grooves that once formed part of a cross-shaft. There is no inscription. The slab does not identify who lies beneath it or when they died.

Writing between 1901 and 1903, a scholar named FitzGerald assessed the slab and recorded a single word: "Illegible". That judgment has not been revised since. Maher, writing in 1997, confirmed the same grim assessment, noting no recoverable inscription and only those faint shaft-grooves as evidence that this was ever a decorated piece at all. The graveslab belongs to a tradition of medieval funerary monuments in which a carved cross marked the stone above a burial, often accompanied by an inscription naming the deceased or requesting prayers for their soul. Here, the cross is almost gone, and the name, if there ever was one, has been erased entirely by time and wear. What remains is essentially the ghost of a monument, present in the choir of one of Ireland's most scrutinised ecclesiastical sites and yet almost entirely unknown.