It is not ancient. It is a monument erected by the Kelly family, and it is the most immediately visible thing about this otherwise quietly decaying site.

The church itself sits within a graveyard that, according to the first edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map, was once D-shaped in plan, though it has since been regularised into a rectangle. The rectangular ruin, aligned roughly west-north-west to east-south-east and measuring about 12.4 metres long by 7.15 metres wide, retains most of its walls except the largely destroyed west gable. A doorway near the eastern end of the south wall has been robbed out, meaning its dressed stonework was removed at some point, probably for reuse elsewhere. When John O'Flanagan recorded observations for the Ordnance Survey Letters in the 1830s, later published in 1927, he noted a possible window in one of the side walls and a ground-level opening in a gable, roughly 0.9 metres wide and tapered on both sides, which he thought might be a trabeate doorway, that is, one formed with a flat horizontal lintel rather than an arch. None of these features are now visible. The eastern interior of the church is occupied by a nineteenth-century vault belonging to the Kelly family, the same family responsible for the round tower folly to the north-west. A folly in this context is a decorative structure built for visual effect rather than practical use, and "Kelly's Monument" deploys the iconography of the early medieval Irish round tower, which would originally have served as a bell tower and place of refuge for monastic communities, purely as a piece of family commemoration and display. The combination of a genuine medieval ruin, a robbed-out doorway, a vanished possible window, and a fake ancient tower erected by a prosperous nineteenth-century family gives the site an unusually layered character.