Eternal Night Society

Skull & Roses Gravestone - LED acrylic plaque

$60.00 USD

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Base Corded LED Base Battery Powered LED Base

Some monuments are meant for one. This Skull & Roses personalized LED gravestone celebrates the beautifully solo spirit—whether you're the unapologetically independent ("Solo and spectacular since 2018"), the darkly philosophical ("Memento mori, memento vivere"), or the exhausted millennial ("Retired from adulting since 2020").

Customize with your name, a meaningful date, and the phrase that captures your essence.

Seven LED colors let you set the mood—hauntingly elegant or wickedly playful. Beautiful in daylight, perfectly macabre when glowing.

Perfect for: Birthdays, personal milestones, self-gifting, or celebrating the friend who walks their own shadowed path.

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Product Information

Product features:

Illuminated acrylic gravestone with wooden LED base
Personalize with names, dates, or your favorite dark phrases
Hauntingly beautiful whether glowing or resting in darkness
Seven LED colors to set your perfect moody atmosphere

Product specs:

Dimensions: 7" H × 5.9" W
Acrylic depth: 0.1"
Power: Corded or battery operated (2 AAA batteries not included)
Seven color-changing LED modes

Product care:

Dust gently with a soft cloth to keep the spirits clear
Skip harsh chemicals—treat it as tenderly as a vintage heirloom
Keep out of prolonged sunlight (even the undead need shade)

Light Up Your Dark Soul

Acrylic plaques that glow as beautifully as you brood.

Oh, It's Personal

Make it uniquely yours. Add names, dates, and perfectly twisted phrases.

Power Your Way

Two power options: Batteries for anywhere or USB cord for always on. Your call.

You're Glowing

Seven color choices lets you change your mood as often as a will-o'-the-wisp flickers

Walk Alone

She'd always been the "plus one."

Not in a sad way—she had friends, a full life, work she loved. But there was this persistent cultural assumption that being single past a certain age meant something was wrong. That she was waiting. Incomplete. A story with pages missing.

"You'll find someone," they'd say, like it was inevitable. Like it was the point.

It took her longer than she'd like to admit to realize: she wasn't waiting for anything.

This was the life. Not the placeholder before the real thing started. Not the intermission. This was it—and it was full and strange and hers.

She started collecting things that made her smile. Odd vintage finds. Books that took months to read. A ridiculous number of candles. She traveled alone and liked it. Ate dinner at weird hours. Stayed up late working on projects no one else cared about.

"Aren't you lonely?" someone asked once.

She thought about it. Really thought about it.

"Sometimes," she admitted. "But I'm lonelier in the wrong company than I ever am alone."

There was power in that. In choosing herself—not as a backup plan, not as "good enough for now," but as the actual answer.

She wasn't incomplete. She wasn't half of something waiting to be whole.

She was the whole damn monument.

And if that made her strange, if it made her an outlier in a world obsessed with pairing off—good. Let them wonder. Let them worry about her hypothetical loneliness while she lived a life that actually fit.

The skull and roses felt right when she saw them. Beauty and mortality, intertwined. A reminder: this life is finite and entirely hers.

She added her name. Her birthdate. And underneath, the words that had become her mantra:

"Walking my own path since [year]. Still not lost."

Some stories are meant for one.

And that's not a tragedy—it's a choice.