Yearly countdown comes to an end its time set a blaze the night sky ahead, what am I that that is bright and colorful

I have wings and hunt with keen sight, or I am flown on a windy delight. One of me is living, fierce and free, the other is a toy that dances with glee.

I start with a flame, bright and bold, I shrink in my strength, though I still glow, What am I, as I fade slow?

Snip and tidy strands, Binds pages like old magic, Little grip of steel.

I brighten up a windowless room on a sunny day. No flick of a switch, or bulb needed in any way.