One of them lies in the nave: a chamfered stone, meaning its edges are cut at an angle, that tapers gradually from roughly sixty centimetres wide at the top to fifty at the base, and measures somewhere between one point six and two metres in length. There is no inscription, no decorative carving, no cross, nothing to indicate who lies beneath or when they were placed there.

The abbey on Innisfallen has a long monastic history, and the island itself was home to a religious community for many centuries before the Augustinians arrived. The annals associated with Innisfallen, compiled by monks on this same island, are among the more significant medieval Irish chronicles. Against that backdrop of careful record-keeping, the anonymity of these slabs is quietly striking. Altogether four such slabs are known across the abbey complex: two more sit in the chancel of the main church, and a fourth lies just to the south of the adjacent Abbot's church. All share the same unadorned quality, chamfered and tapering, carrying no visible identity. Whether these mark the graves of monks, abbots, or lay patrons, the stones themselves offer no answer.