Answer:
Always wax, yet always wane: I melt, succumbed to the flame. Lighting darkness, with fate unblest, I soon devolve to shapeless mess.
A dragons tooth in a mortals hand, I kill, I maim, I divide the land.
What can stand in place of a country but still fold away in a drawer?
What asks but never answers?
Steals an event or even a mood. Reveals the truth or shatters it.
Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it. But almost nobody takes it.