Answer:
What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?
It cannot be seen, it weighs nothing, but when put into a barrel, it makes it lighter.
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 makes a loud noise when changing its jacket, becomes larger but weighs less?
Always wax, yet always wane: I melt, succumbed to the flame. Lighting darkness, with fate unblest, I soon devolve to shapeless mess.
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?