The bog that surrounded it for millennia has been cut back, leaving the monument oddly exposed on open ground, stripped of the context that might once have helped explain it. What survives is a stone gallery, roughly three metres long and just over a metre wide, oriented along a west-northwest to east-southeast axis. A large closing stone seals the western end, set just outside the side-walls in a configuration typical of several Irish tomb traditions. At the eastern end, the gallery remains open, and here things become genuinely puzzling: an inclined stone stands within the entrance, leaning at an angle, its purpose unrecorded and apparently unresolved. Two large slabs lie displaced to the north-west, most likely roofstones that have slipped or been pushed from their original position over the centuries.

Megalithic tombs, broad stone chambers built by Neolithic farming communities from around 4000 BCE onwards, come in several recognisable Irish types: court tombs, portal tombs, passage tombs, and wedge tombs, each with its own structural logic. The Tooreena monument, however, refuses to fit neatly into any of these categories. Archaeologists who assessed it concluded that the remains are simply insufficient to permit classification. That is not a failure of imagination on their part; it reflects how much has been lost, displaced, or obscured. The inclined stone at the eastern end adds a particular ambiguity, since nothing in the surviving fabric clearly explains whether it is a structural remnant, a later insertion, or something else entirely. Ruined beyond the point of easy reading, the tomb exists now as a kind of archaeological question mark, its original form irretrievable without excavation.