acrostic poem

and my name is truthful
i know what you're going to say
daughters of time
sweet splendor
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
why do
a little peach in the orchard grew
one with you
sleep, gray brother of death
with the meek, brown eyes
the agony of having too much power
night is dark, and the winter winds
i love the old melodious lays