So all of the mildly interesting debate these three characters had for two hours, gets washed away like waves of sentimental nonsense, and the ultimate moral of the story as spoken in the final diatribe, by the idiot poet amongst them, is that life has no meaning outside of "human relationships." Garbage.
Garbage for you, perhaps. Not for everyone.
Nor does it conclude by saying that meaning resides only in human relationships, only that human relationships are vital, because all things are connected -- including people, perhaps especially people. And that meaning, either in a universal or personal sense, is an elusive thing at best -- but that if we hope to find any sort of meaning, it must be composed of something more than isolated fragments of the whole.
Or so it struck me, anyway. As always, YMMV.