Year of the Fire Horse (2026)
They read the sky like a headline page,
red ink comets, a restless age.
They say “Fire Horse” is on the run,
kicking up dust where the old days spun.
Passion in the air like gasoline,
every calm feels thin, unseen.
But the stars don’t swear, they only glow—
it’s us who turn them into “I told you so.”
We want a map for what we fear,
a reason why the end feels near.
So we dress the unknown in cosmic light,
and call our shadows “fate” at night.
It’s the Year of the Fire Horse—hear the thunder in the story,
burning bright in our imagination, chasing danger, chasing glory.
Explosive energy in every word we choose to emphasize,
but prophecies are mirrors—more of us than of the skies.
Power shifts, the ground moves, and we grip what we can hold,
yet the future isn’t written—only guessed, and then retold.
They warn of turns and shattered crowns,
of silent kings and louder towns.
Of borders trembling, deals undone,
of midnight drums and rising sun.
But maybe it’s not heaven’s plan,
maybe it’s the human hand—
we crave a script, a grand design,
to make our chaos feel divine.
We want a name for every flame,
to say it wasn’t us to blame.
So we point above, as if the stars
moved our mouths and made our scars.
It’s the Year of the Fire Horse—hear the thunder in the story,
burning bright in our imagination, chasing danger, chasing glory.
Explosive energy in every word we choose to emphasize,
but prophecies are mirrors—more of us than of the skies.
Power shifts, the ground moves, and we grip what we can hold,
yet the future isn’t written—only guessed, and then retold.
If the fire is real, let it light a road,
not scorch the earth beneath the load.
Let it forge the steel in what we say,
not turn our minds to ash and prey.
The omen isn’t in the air—
it’s in the choices we declare.
It’s the Year of the Fire Horse—let the rumor meet the reason,
keep your heart awake and steady through the changes of the season.
Explosive energy can build a dawn or set the night on fire,
but prophecies are only echoes of our hunger and desire.
So ride it, don’t be ridden—hold the truth you’re living for,
’cause the sky just keeps on turning… and we choose what it’s for.
S.
Song: https://www.ganjingworld.com/s/nX3j8Ax2Mb
他们把天空当成头条来读，
红色的彗星划过不安的年代。
他们说“火马”正在奔跑，
踏起尘土，卷走旧日的节拍。
空气里弥漫着汽油般的激情，
每一份平静都显得脆弱透明。
群星从未发誓，它们只是发光——
是我们，把光芒解读成预言的回响。
我们渴望一张地图，解释恐惧的方向，
渴望一个理由，说服不安的心脏。
于是给未知披上宇宙的外衣，
在黑夜里，把影子称作“命运”的意义。
这是火马之年——听故事里的雷鸣回荡，
燃烧在想象之中，追逐荣耀与动荡。
“爆裂的能量”在话语间被放大，
可预言只是镜子——映出人心的挣扎。
权力在更替，大地似乎摇晃，
未来未被书写，只被猜测、被传唱。
他们预告转折与王冠的坠落，
沉默的君王，喧嚣的城郭。
边界在颤抖，协议被撕裂，
午夜的鼓声，黎明的火焰。
也许这并非天意安排，
也许只是人类的手在主宰。
我们渴望剧本，渴望宏大的图景，
让混乱看起来像神圣的命令。
我们想为每一道火焰命名，
好让责任不落在自己身上。
于是仰望星空，假装是星辰，
替我们说话，替我们受伤。
这是火马之年——听故事里的雷鸣回荡，
燃烧在想象之中，追逐荣耀与动荡。
“爆裂的能量”在话语间被放大，
可预言只是镜子——映出人心的挣扎。
权力在更替，大地似乎摇晃，
未来未被书写，只被猜测、被传唱。
若火焰真实，让它照亮前方，
而不是焚毁脚下的土壤。
让它锻造语言的钢铁，
而非将理性烧成灰烬与荒凉。
征兆不在天空之上——
它存在于我们所做的选择之中。
这是火马之年——让传闻遇见理性，
在变革的季节里守住内心的清醒。
爆裂的能量，能筑起黎明，
也能点燃长夜的边境。
骑上风暴，而非被它驱动，
天空自会旋转——意义由我们决定。
S.
Song: https://www.ganjingworld.com/s/m9Bzk63xQZ
Song 2: https://www.ganjingworld.com/s/p2DjEpbApj