Answer:
Through its wounds, water does run. It once held many but now has none. What is it?
What is often returned, but never borrowed/
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.
The eight of us move forth and back. To protect our king from the foes attack.
There is someone, and there is always another, for without the other, there wouldn't be one
They are many and one, they wave and they drum, Used to cover a state, they go with you everywhere.