Answer:
What I am filled, I can point the way. When I am empty. Nothing moves me. I have two skins. One without and one within.
A horrid monster hides from the day, with many legs and many eyes. With silver chains it catches prey. And eats it all before it dies. Yet in every cottage does it stay. And every castle beneath the sky.
Hard to catch, easy to hold. Can't be seen, unless it's cold.
I cannot be felt, seen or touched. Yet I can be found in everybody. My existence is always in debate. Yet I have my own style of music.
Not a burden for its weight and daily carried out, He who takes it wishes it had never come about
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?