Answer:
The eight of us move forth and back. To protect our king from the foes attack.
It holds no blessings in disguise. Its rhymes are aimed at your demise, it's cast only to ruin, Whatever you are doin'.
What hangs others yet can unintentionally hang itself?
Runs smoother than any rhyme, loves to fall but cannot climb.
You will find me with four legs, but no hair. People ride me for hours, but I don't go anywhere without needing to be tugged. Jerked or turned on, I always manage to be ready for work.
My days are numbered. What am I?