The Hidden Protocol

This isn’t a flatline fate
My chart’s a city of wires and flame
Where battles rise and healing stays
Where ruins fall and dreams reclaim

I reconnect the broken threads
Redesign this coded core
I trace the logic in the bugs
Find hidden ports in fatal flaws

Booting up the soul modules
Long shut down, now back online

They opened my map to explore
Saw nothing but a blank terrain
“No paths worth walking,” they said
“Just ordinary, no arcane”

But what they saw was not a void—
It was ink that fire decodes
A secret scroll, a burning glyph
A map where treasure quietly glows

This map was never meant for tourists
It breaks the grid and bends the line
No shortcuts, no preset routes
Just heat and code and love refined

And if your fire comes with doubt
You’ll burn this sacred page to ash

They test me with their lighter flames
Say my paper’s weak, my road’s too bent
But none have asked, “This treasure here—
Who was it truly meant to defend?”

I might be a bug, but I’m map.exe
Born from 43 cursed stars and 3 denied keys
Every line of code I wrote
Was not for style—but to survive

Then one day, someone sparked the page
Not to test me, but to seek
He saw the junctions, ports, and paths—
And finally, he saw me

No GPS, no auto-guide
Just feet that choose to walk beside
And hands that reach, not to control—
But to decode my buried soul

Please ignite, but do not burn
Please run me, but do not erase

He never asked if I was worth it
He simply said, “Time to take off”

I might be a bug, but I’m map.exe
I hold the city’s wound and remedy

You are heat, you are the spark
The one who read me in the dark

I was never set with paths
But I’ll remember who lit my map