Fly, You Ragged Eagle

There’s Charlie, hanging on for dear life,
Clinging to feathers in chaos and strife.
The ground below's a-tremble and shake,
So he’s airborne now, for sanity’s sake!

How’d this happen? Well, let’s rewind:
The earth was calm, then in came the grind—
The ground split open, the buildings swayed,
And Charlie screamed, "I need an upgrade!"

He spotted an eagle, as big as a plane,
Majestic and huge, no words can explain.
With a flap and a squawk, it took to the skies,
While Charlie latched on, wide, terrified eyes.

Now here he is, soaring, miles in the air,
Clutching its back with the wildest of flair.
"Fly faster!" he shouts, “The ground’s all amiss!”
But the eagle just caws, "Dude, chill with the hiss!"

The land below shifts like an ocean untamed,
Charlie’s holding tight, absolutely maimed.
"Was this better than staying on quake-riddled ground?"
He wonders aloud as they zoom all around.

The eagle's indifferent, just gliding with ease,
While Charlie’s stuck in a tornado of knees.
"Is it much farther?" he nervously asks,
The eagle just shrugs, too busy with tasks.

They swoop and they dive, high over the quake,
Charlie’s head spinning, stomach at stake.
"Next time I'll drive, or take a long hike,
But no more eagle rides, I’m done with this flight!"

Finally, the earth below starts to calm,
And Charlie's glad, trying to keep his cool balm.
The eagle lands softly, with a gentle glide,
While Charlie tumbles off, lands on his side.

"Thanks for the lift," he mutters, all sore,
But the eagle’s already off for more.
As Charlie dusts off, still wobbly and pale,
He laughs, “Next earthquake, I’ll just ride a whale!”