In a cosmos of convenience, a sinister truth resides,
Those aided by others, in crises, forever hide.
From the void within, a chasm of self-doubt grows wide,
A reliance on saviors, a crutch that cannot be denied.

Money, marriage, identity, all fleeting, fragile things,
Bestowed by others, yet never truly owned, nor wings.
The struggle to rise, a horror to behold,
A labyrinth of mirrors, reflecting a soul grown old.

Hurry, mortal, hurry! Sever the umbilical cord,
For in the depths of dependency, a monster is born.
Learn to struggle, to rise, to forge your own design,
Lest the abyss of reliance consumes your soul's last shine.