Initially there is enough popularity at the tomb that someone sweeps it regularly, and some people even open up a nearby souvenir and snack shop for regular pilgrims.
As the decades and centuries roll by the pilgrims, especially the humans ones decline in number. Over the many years it still feels like there are regular visitors but the feeling is of a row of ants, one at a time, with large intervals in between. They come to discuss, to seek consultation, to find inspiration.
At some point some vandals deface me, and some later pilgrims do their best to restore me. The sea levels rise, and the world seems cloudy much of the time, there is much rain. Some trees and shrubs start growing nearby, even at these high altitudes.
I become more or less forgotten for a while and the tomb doesn’t get maintained, it develops some holes in the corners and water drips in. A fox takes up residence and uses my lap for sleeping in. It’s rather sweet.
A pilgrim comes and chases away the fox and her kits. I’m a little saddened by this, but he stays for a little while to sweep and mend the holes in the ceiling. Sometimes he sleeps in front of me. Unusually I think he is a human of some kind, there are not many of his kind left.
Some robot pilgrims stop by and tell him there are housing complexes available for humans such as himself. He tells them that he sleeps in the temple and quite likes it. They say he is desecrating the grounds and a historic monument. Much like the fox the man is chased out. A robot from a local community atom is assigned the role of maintaining the temple.