Answer:
Thirty white horses on a red hill, First they champ, Then they stamp, Then they stand still.
Both punishment and sweet reward, It will befall both fool and lord. It is a spiritual scoreboard, Your every deed it does record.
Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouthless mutters.
It's got twists and turns, but has no curves. Twist it to fix it, turn it to ruin it. What is it?
When liquid splashes me, none seeps through. When I am moved a lot, liquid I spew. When I am hit, color I change. And color, I come in quite a range. What I cover is very complex, and I am very easy to flex.
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?