A mystic aura

It is all about the past these caves saw... This poem is about an exception to it's present glory...   

A shadow of someone and a mystic aura,
Slaves bled, miseries engraved in a gory era,
The tilted hat and the sweat dripping,
No one there but the ground seeping,
Chill from it has loomed and the scare…
He is faceless, still a gloomy stare,
Feel of seclusion and delusion steers,
Twitch alike in mind and muscle shears,
It’s been years the cries subsided,
The gypsum has long gone and he been chided,
But the tears have lingered as a mist here,
It seems mystic but I can feel it there,
I have imbibed the engraving in the caves here,
I still sense the mystic aura and the shadow’s stare………