No foundations break the surface, no carved stonework marks a corner, and no ruin survives above ground to suggest what once stood here. The building has simply vanished, absorbed by time and by the graveyard that outlasted it.

By 1838, when Ordnance Survey officers were compiling their letters and six-inch maps of the country, the church had already been destroyed. Local tradition held that it had occupied the north-east corner of the graveyard, and that a tomb erected in 1836 by the Howley family of Belleek Castle was placed precisely where the old church once stood. The OS map from that same year does show a structure with an east-west axis in the northern portion of the graveyard, though it carries no label identifying it as a church; it may simply record the Howley tomb itself. That tomb, dedicated to the wife of Edward Howley esq., is enclosed by a wall of cut limestone topped with wrought-iron railings, and adjoining its eastern side is a rectangular grave enclosure roughly seven metres by three and a half metres, bounded by mortared rubble walls. The south wall incorporates both stone and brick, with a gate set into it; the north wall is built of rounded boulders and horizontally laid stones; the east wall has collapsed to a low scatter of rubble. O'Flanagan, writing in 1927, recorded the tradition connecting the tomb's location to the former church, though the matter was never settled conclusively. It is possible that stone from the demolished church was reused in the construction of this enclosure, but no firm evidence confirms it, and the question remains open. What survives is a layered accumulation of memorialising, one family's elaborate tomb placed over the memory of a much older building, and a graveyard that has quietly carried both.