Answer:
A dagger thrust at my own heart, dictates the way I'm swayed. Left I stand, and right I yield, to the twisting of the blade.
In the forest, this blends in just right, but every December it is covered with lights. What is it?
My first master has four legs, my second master has two. My first I serve in life, my second I serve in death. Tough I am, yet soft beside. Against ladies cheeks I often reside.
At first, I am nothing. Add something to negate. Add again to oppose. Add again to find the time to draw. Add once more to find nobody at all.
An open ended barrel, it is shaped like a hive. It is filled with the flesh, and the flesh is alive!
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?