Answer:
I wear a red robe, with staff in hand, and a stone in my throat.
I drive men mad for love of me. Easily beaten, never free.
Tool of thief, toy of queen. Always used to be unseen. Sign of joy, sign of sorrow. Giving all likeness borrowed.
In the forest, this blends in just right, but every December it is covered with lights. What is it?
What is the heart of many risks, has a heart, but is not a living being?
I repeat only the last word you say. The more I repeat, the softer I got. I cannot be seen but can be heard. What am I?