Shrouded in Silence, Black

Some figures speak without words, their stillness heavier than stone. Shrouded in Silence sits in perpetual vigil, veiled in mystery and steeped in the hush of the graveyard at midnight. When lit, its fragrance rises slowly, curling into the air like incense at an unmarked altar. It carries the weight of remembrance—the echo of footsteps in an empty hall, the press of unseen eyes. To warm it is to share the quiet company of something that has been waiting far longer than you.