They do not sleep. They daydream- of the future, and fantasy. Sometimes it's hard to tell one from the other. A single daydream goes on and on for centuries, for what is time to them. Crouched, their marble and granite bodies are hard to distinguish from mountains. A forest can live and die over their arms and upon the slopes of their ankles in the span of a daydream. And when they rise- taller than skyscrapers, too large, too illogical for human comprehension, they unfold their wings. The day turns to twilight. The sunlight filtered through their feathers pierces the darkness beneath like spears from the sky. You can not tell if they are handsome or ugly, for their sight triggers just one overwhelming emotion. Awe. Behold the Goliaths.
Thus spake Manish Bhatt