To Sell A Bleak Soul

Hear me!
  Hear me!
         I shall voice out.
     The musings previously silenced.
My bleak soul is useless.
             I shall sell it!
Aha!
I shall trade it for something more convenient.
           For something I can enjoy.
For something that will not decay or rot or wake up my rights and wrongs.
                Call everyone!
     Tell them my soul is for sale!
  Meet me at the square.
               Bring your pockets of silver.
    My soul is out for bidding.
                   But then...
At what cost?
         What is the price?
   Of such a bleak and feeble soul?
      How much is it worth?
                 Ten? A thousand? A million?
  Perhaps nothing...
Call everyone!
      I shall sell my soul.
   I am exhausted carrying it.
           I am better off.
Without it.