By the time the 1838 Ordnance Survey six-inch map was being drawn, the site was already a ruin, labelled in the cartographers' careful hand as 'Site of Killynee Chapel and Graveyard', a small rectangular structure sitting within an enclosing graveyard roughly thirty metres on its longer axis. It occupied marshy ground, the kind of low, wet bogland that was common across this part of County Wicklow. Not long afterwards, even that trace was gone, obliterated entirely during the construction of the railway line that cut through the area.

What makes Killynee quietly arresting is the layering of its disappearance. The chapel itself had already vanished before cartographers arrived to record it, surviving only as a name on a map and a faint outline in the ground. Then the railway came and removed even that. The marshy ground in which it once stood has since been drained, so the landscape that surrounded it is also altered beyond recognition. There is no visible trace left, no overgrown corner of a field, no surviving headstone tilting at an angle, no local landmark to suggest that a community once gathered here to bury its dead. The site exists now almost entirely as a notation, a place that the historical record briefly caught sight of before it was consumed by the nineteenth century's appetite for movement and drainage and progress.