By the time the Ordnance Survey recorded it in 1838, it was already a ruin, marked plainly on the six-inch map as a rectangular structure oriented roughly northwest to southeast. Eighty-five years later, the building itself had gone entirely, leaving only the annotation "Killogunra Church (Site of)" and a note of the burial ground beside it. What remains today are grassed-over wall footings, barely raising themselves above the surrounding pasture, enclosing a roughly square area of about fourteen metres by thirteen, with walls still traceable to around eighty centimetres thick. The interior is filled with rubble.

The townland takes its name from the church, which is the usual pattern with Irish place names of this kind, suggesting the site was significant enough to anchor the local geography long before anyone thought to write it down. What the church was originally dedicated to, or when it fell out of use, is not recorded. The footings themselves present an interpretive puzzle: they may preserve the outline of the church itself, or they may simply mark the boundary of the burial ground that continued to be used after the building collapsed. A rubble-filled interior makes it difficult to say which. What persists alongside the archaeology is a local tradition that a stone set into the western wall carries miraculous powers. Traditions of this kind are not unusual at old Irish church sites, where pre-Christian associations with particular stones or water sources were often absorbed into Christian practice rather than displaced by it. The stone itself sits in the WSW wall, and the tradition, whatever its age, has outlasted the building around it.