Overgrown and subject to years of mortar wash-out, the remnant walls of this old parish church cling to their original alignment with walls somewhere between one and a half and three metres high, and roughly 82 centimetres thick. What vegetation has not claimed, time and stone-robbers have quietly worked upon: the quoins, the dressed corner stones that give a wall its structural integrity, have been stripped from the south-west angle entirely.

The church was originally known as Donaghmore, a name that suggests early ecclesiastical origins, and it served as a parish church before gradually falling out of use. By the time of the Civil Survey of 1654 to 1656, it was already being referred to simply as the 'old church', which implies that its decline was well underway by then. Scholars including Walsh (1888) have suggested the building probably fell into ruin sometime between 1630 and 1650. What remains today is only the western portion of the original structure. Even within that fragment, there is evidence that the building was modified or partially rebuilt at some point in its working life. The north jamb of the west window is still present, and there are traces of a doorway in the north wall, along with what may be a buttress against the north-west angle.

The site sits within a graveyard that is still in use, which means access to the general area is straightforward enough, though reaching the ruin itself requires some persistence through dense overgrowth. The remains are modest by any measure, and a visitor arriving with expectations shaped by more complete medieval ruins may find them easy to underestimate. That said, there is something worth pausing over in the surviving north jamb of the window and the ghosted outline of the doorway in the north wall, small details that confirm this was a functioning building with an interior life, not merely a pile of field stone. Going in summer, when the vegetation is at its thickest, is likely to make the walls harder to examine closely.