Answer:
My life is often a volume of grief, your help is needed to turn a new leaf. Stiff is my spine and my body is pale. But I'm always ready to tell a tale.
What can be forever wound up but never annoyed?
Always wax, yet always wane: I melt, succumbed to the flame. Lighting darkness, with fate unblest, I soon devolve to shapeless mess.
Without a bridle, or a saddle, across a thing I ride a-straddle. And those I ride, by help of me, though almost blind, are made to see.
I can be moved. I can be rolled. But nothing will I hold. I'm red and I'm blue, and I can be other colors too. Having no head, though similar in shape. I have no eyes - yet move all over the place.
Of these things - I have two. One for me - and one for you. And when you ask about the price, I simply smile and nod twice.