I met a choster with an antique interest,
Who said—“A vast and cartless brick of gaming
Posted on the timeline. . . . Within it, compressed,
Half obliterated a shattered visage lies, whose screen,
And power'd LED, and d-pad of cold command,
Tell that its JPEG well those details read
Which yet survive, rendered on these noise'd things,
The carts that played them, and the batteries that fed;
And on the chost, these words appear:
My name is Gameboy DMG, Brick of Games;
Look on my Library, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that compress'd Mess, boundless and static
The random and dispersed pixels stretch far away.”
Just in case anyone needs context. With apologies to @sleeps-darkly.