An anonymous being's last summary of the philosophy known as "love" follows…
Curious prying eyes watch closely at those who exercise what is called "love".
Eternally watching at all who appear as a couple, scanning their hearts.
Those eyes are mine, and mine alone, observing the planet's art
Art is wonderful, alluring, and sublime. I wonder what I'll do with it, in time.
Ever watching, I see how those deal with "love"
Those that appear to be everlasting passion, are they?
Is it consistent or temporary? Does it flow or sway?
Every day seems to be more strange, every day.
For it seems that this "love" perhaps is an act of faith
In believing that it is special.
Sometimes "love" looks like a gamble
In living and leaving moments of passion.
Enthralled I am by this "love", my mind stays vigilant
For this is simply research, and is thus impersonal.
Throughout the legacy of life, there exists both joy and despair
And so too is this "love".
In existence there is harmony and discord
And so is "love".
And in the absence of thought and emotion, there is only emptiness
And yet this also applies to "love".
So, my thesis nearly complete, my work almost done
The purpose of this whole report, the end result
Only one question remains: Is "love" worth it?
I am left blank at this point, as I don't know what to do.
What should I do? This has to be finished.
My mind is at a loss for thoughts, and my emotions aflutter
This will not do.
And all of a sudden, my thoughts clicked, knowing the answer.
All of a sudden, my emotions unified into one passion.
I know what I must do.
Is "love" worth it? Well, I'll just have to find out for myself.
This was the last transmission. All evidence of the research has been destroyed.