Answer:
Steals an event or even a mood. Reveals the truth or shatters it.
Something wholly unreal, yet seems real to I. Think my friend, tell me where does it lie?
You get many of me, but never enough. After the last one, your life soon will snuff. You may have one of me but one day a year, When the last one is gone, your life disappears.
The root tops the trunk on this backward thing, that grows in the winter and dies in the spring.
Of these things - I have two. One for me - and one for you. And when you ask about the price, I simply smile and nod twice.
In your fire you hear me scream! Creaking and whining yet I am dead before you lay me in your hearth.