What makes the site quietly compelling is not the ruin itself, which is modest, but what has happened to its stonework since: carved fragments from the building have been incorporated into the surrounding graveyard, where they now serve as grave-markers and grave surrounds rather than as parts of a functioning structure.

The church is traditionally associated with St Lohan, to whom a nearby holy well is also dedicated, suggesting a foundation rooted in the early medieval period. When the scholar John O'Donovan visited in 1839, the east gable was still largely intact and carried a semicircular-headed window built of finely cut stone. A smaller semicircular-headed window survived in the south wall as well, though O'Donovan doubted its age, observing that the south wall looked considerably newer than the north wall and the east gable, which he dated to the ninth or tenth century. By the time the Ordnance Survey revised its mapping in 1916, only the east gable and short adjoining sections of the side-walls were recorded. Today the east gable stands just two metres high, its wall reduced further still from what O'Donovan saw, and the window opening has disappeared entirely, though its position in the masonry remains legible. The west gable has vanished altogether, and graves now occupy that end of the building. The walls are built of dressed rubble on a single-course plinth and have been partly rebuilt and repointed at some point. Just to the north-west of the church, two curving cut-stone fragments, probably from an arched doorway, have been set upright on a grave, while nearby a dressed stone that may once have been a door jamb now functions as a grave-marker. These reused pieces suggest the church had late medieval architectural elements as well as its earlier fabric, layers of building history that ended up scattered across the one site where the community continued to gather.