Twentieth-century headstones crowd what was once the nave floor, while a medieval cut-stone slab lies flat near the south wall, its original purpose now uncertain, its presence suggesting continuity between the building's active life and its long afterlife as a graveyard. The church has been in ruins for roughly two hundred and fifty years, yet the walls retain enough detail to suggest it was once a carefully considered structure rather than a simple rural chapel.

The building is rectangular, measuring just over seventeen and a half metres east to west and just under eight metres north to south, constructed from random rubble sandstone with quoins at the corners and limestone dressings around the openings. A round-headed niche beside the entrance contains a holy water stoup, a small basin hollowed from a single block of sandstone, which would have been used by entering worshippers for blessing themselves. By 1841, when an Ordnance Survey letter recorded the church, the doorway still had its pointed limestone surround intact; today only a single chamfered jamb survives, with a modern concrete lintel replacing the original. The east window, which the same 1841 description recorded as a two-light opening, has largely collapsed, though its chamfered jambs are still legible. Along the south wall, an ogee-headed window light, a style associated with late medieval Irish ecclesiastical architecture, has been blocked and is now heavily overgrown. Small wall-presses, recesses built into the thickness of the masonry, survive at three points around the interior, and corbels projecting from the north and south walls near the west end suggest a gallery once occupied that portion of the building, a feature more common in post-Reformation than in purely medieval church arrangements.