That's it... I'm dreaming. Why must I dream? These images that come before me are not ones I want to see. Spanning out in all directions, this wasteland.... it's so familiar, to me. I don't know why but it feels hostile to me. I once belonged here I think, the kukkari say, but I don't any more and I can't walk away.
And as I gaze, and I gaze away, I see glimpses of corpses, all dead and arrayed. Beasts long dead, Beasts dead new, humans who died, people I knew. These are the bodies that are all kukkaru, they died through the ages, land air and sea. Here, in this land, the wasteland I see, they fall upon themselves, forever eternally.
Among them, there are the plants that no longer thrive. They lay withered and tithered upon the ground unalive. So clickity do, clickity dee, not even a single ray of sun will they see. I now know that I am in the world of the Dead, this wasteland where Gods roam and dead souls are led.
But I am dreaming. Right? This isn't real. Can it be? The voices I hear now cry out to me. I feel flat, I feel empty, like I am only a shell; but that's the way I always am, withery-bell. Kukkara, kukkari, I hate these thoughts inside me. Kukkara, kukkaray, oh how I miss you, honey let's play.