Monsters of Easter Island

The monster heads sit sulking on their hill,
Their stone faces buffeted by the breeze.
Their piercing eyes send toward my heart a thrill;
They seem to tell a secret unappeased.

Two thousand years ago, these stones were new,
Brought to Easter Isle from an unknown source.
Two scores later, they're carved for their debut,
Their eerie eyes with baffling kind of force.

How were they carved without our modern tools?
How did they transport stone across the sea?
These old heads today mean more than jewels,
Their knowing smiles conceal a mystery.

A myst'ry that might remain forever;
Remnant of our ancestors' endeavor.